


are you ready for more

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Academy Is...
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey doesn't know what he wants. And then William tells him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	are you ready for more

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my fabulous artist lucifuge5. Check out her artwork [here](http://t.co/N2EXfl5DkD)

Mikey’s seen him at every show he’s gone to over the past month, and now he actively looks for him, seeks him out. He’s never on the sidelines, never at the bar no matter when Mikey shows up. He’s always in the pit, caught up in the heart of it. Mikey joins him every time he sees him, moving through the crowd as if he’s drawn by a magnet.

The strangest thing is that he’s not Mikey’s type at all. He’s too much like Mikey himself, long and lanky and slightly effeminate, but there’s something Mikey can’t resist getting close to. He doesn’t actually approach him, just hits the vicinity and lets the music take over, the gravitational pull of the pit dragging them together.

Up close, it’s even more powerful, and Mikey can’t quite look away. He has brown hair cut in a shaggy mop around his face, and his eyes are dark even when the lights hit them, but the thing that gets Mikey every time is his smile, wide and bright and sharp. Whenever Mikey sees it, heat coils in his body, skin feverish with want. The smile draws Mikey closer still, like he’s been summoned. He forgets about the crowd, only focused on one body, one set of sweat-slick limbs. 

Sometimes Mikey gets close enough that they touch, grind against each other, and sometimes all Mikey can do is watch as other people fill the heated air around him. Mikey’s tried to talk to him, to catch him, to know his name, but he’s always gone by the time the lights come up, lost in the crowd, opposite the way he stands out in the pit. 

It’s at the point now where this guy is all Mikey sees, who he wants and not getting a chance at him is driving Mikey crazy. He _wants_ , so when he moves into the club and sees him, he decides he’s waited long enough. He gets two beers from the bar and moves into the crowd, weaving his way through. It’s still fairly early, so a lot of people are still hanging at the edges, talking over the music, sizing people up. 

Mikey heads toward the knot of people in the center of the floor, already lost in the music. He nods to a few people that he knows, moving past them with little more than that or a smile. Mikey insinuates himself in the crowd, finally coming to a stop right behind him. “Hey.”

The guy turns, and up close, facing him, all Mikey can feel is a hot burn in his chest, desperation to move one step closer and press up against him. He smiles, and it’s different than what Mikey’s used to, softer and more welcoming. He tilts his head a little and nods. “Hey.”

“You look hot.” He can feel the flush, and has to wonder where his reputation as a player has gone. “I mean, I, uh, I brought you a beer.”

“You brought me a beer.” His smile widens and Mikey’s dick gives a quick jolt. Seriously, he’s starting to think there’s something wrong with him, given how he’s reacting to a _smile_. “What’s your name?”

“Mikey.”

“Hi, Mikey.” He steps closer, and Mikey’s breath catches in his chest. “I’m William.”

“Hi. I…beer.” He holds up the cup and William smiles again, and Mikey’s realizing he’s content to make a fool out of himself continuously if it means that William will keep smiling at him like that. 

“Thanks.” He reaches up and Mikey glances down, trying not to groan as he sees the neon green wristband on William’s wrist. William follows Mikey’s glance as he takes the beer from him, the smile gone and replaced with a wicked grin. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“You’re not twenty-one.” 

William takes a long sip then licks his upper lip to chase away any remnants of foam. “Shh. Our secret.” He smiles and takes another drink, and Mikey finds himself watching William’s throat as he swallows. 

“You can’t…” Mikey stops, because obviously, William can and is going to drink the rest of the beer, and hopefully no one will see and have Mikey thrown out of the club and arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. The crowd’s still moving around them, jockeying for position as the first and second band weave around each other, tearing down and setting up. “It’s a 21 and over show.”

“I know a guy.” William finishes the beer and licks his lips again. “So, thanks again.”

Mikey stands there, unsure of what’s next. There’s the squawk of sound checks and he knows the next band is about to start, so standing there with William wouldn’t be out of line, he could move in closer and they could move together to the music, share the wave of bass line and guitars. Instead he takes a step back, frowning as the lights go off and the crowd crushes forward, separating him and William. He fights against the surge of people, making his way back to the bar, buying a beer of his own and watching the show, pretending he isn’t looking for William in the crowd.

*

The set ends and Mikey’s more drunk than usual, beers and shots adding a nice haze to the events to the night. He’s gotten to the point where he has the story set in his head, and he can’t wait to tell Pete. Telling Pete makes it less real, more of a joke, and being hot for a teenager will be less embarrassment than amusement. He’s looking forward to it, thinking about letting himself into Pete’s place and crawling into the bed with him as he moves through the group of people standing just outside the venue doors.

Outside the air is thick with smoke and laughter, the back of the parking lot crowded with young girls and boys, all of them waiting, trying to get closer to the band. Mikey wonders if it ever matters that the band sucks, and he imagines it doesn’t, doesn’t remember that it did for him.

There’s another group huddled together in the parking lot, and Mikey watches them for a few minutes, inhaling second hand cigarette smoke and the sweet burn of pot. They seem relatively harmless, but he’s left enough clubs alone to know to survey the scene and avoid getting into trouble. Avoiding them is out of the question, since his car is parked down the street, and he’ll have to walk past them to get to it.

“Give me your phone.”

Mikey starts, not sure if he should glance behind him to identify the voice or if that would be the wrong move. He’s about to turn, since the odds of getting mugged in the middle of a decent sized crowd are slim, but before he can manage it, a hand slides across his hip and over his pocket, long fingers rubbing the flat denim.

“Ah. A righty. Should have known.” The opposite hand digs into Mikey’s jeans, pulling his sidekick loose.

“Hey.” He finally turns, stopping at the sight of the guy from the club – William – in all his under-aged glory. He’s got Mikey’s phone in his hands, the same long fingers that had moved over Mikey’s hips now on the keyboard.

“Hey, yourself.” William snaps the phone closed and hands it back to Mikey. “I’ll call you.”

“But…”

He shakes his head once and taps the phone. “I’ll call you. And you’ll answer. No matter what.”

“Just who do you think you…” He cuts himself off when William lifts his hand, pressing the pad of one finger on Mikey’s mouth.

“I’ll call. You’ll answer.” He pulls his finger away. “Won’t you?”

Mikey closes his fist around his phone and manages a nod. “Yes.”

“I thought so.” William smiles at him, and Mikey can feel his entire body respond. His pulse jumps and his cock jerks to attention as William leans in, his breath hot on Mikey’s skin. “Good boy.” 

Mikey’s breath catches and he turns his head just enough to look William in the eye. He’s still smiling, so much heat and promise that it actually takes effort not to touch him. “W-when?”

William shakes his head, his fingertips ghosting over Mikey’s neck. “Patience.” He pulls his hand back and walks off, calm and poised and relaxed. Mikey’s nerves are jangling and he shoves his phone back in his pocket, digging his keys out of the other as he forces himself past the crowd by the streetlight and makes his way to his car. 

*

“Wait. Wait. Back up.” Pete flops across Mikey’s bed and turns onto his back, head over the edge, looking at Mikey upside down. “Because it sounded like you said you’re totally hot for a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaby.”

“Fuck you,” Mikey informs him evenly. “You have no room to talk.”

“I don’t buy them booze.”

“You do too.”

“Okay, I totally do, but not where other people can see me. I do it like you’re supposed to. I buy it at the store and then lure them somewhere dark and quiet to get them drunk and seduce them.”

“And we all wonder why you’re not in prison yet.” Mikey stuffs his socks in the drawer and closes it, turning around to lean on the dresser. “Besides, not twenty-one doesn’t mean teenager. It just means that he’s, like, twenty and a half.”

“Right. I’m sure.”

“I hate you.” Mikey comes over to the bed and lays across it, resting his head on Pete’s thigh. “It doesn’t matter though, because he said he’d call, but he’s not going to call. It was just a power thing, because he had the upper hand. I was discombobulated.”

“And drunk.”

“Drunk-ish.”

“Right. Drunk-ish.” Pete shifts a little and rests his head on Mikey’s leg, looking at him. “Even if he does call, you can just ask him how old he is, and if he’s too young, you write him off. Say thanks, but no thanks, and when you hit your twenty-first, you totally owe me a beer.”

“Right.”

“Mikey. You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The agreeing thing where you agree with me, even though you’re not listening to me. Take it from the voice of experience. Young people are trouble. Young people have parents who use scary phrases like ‘statutory rape’ and ‘restraining order’ and chase after you with a shotgun.”

“It was a BB gun.”

“It still would have hurt.” Pete rubs a small circle on Mikey’s hip. “I’m very delicate.”

Mikey snorts and kicks his leg so Pete falls back onto the bed. He gets to his knees and turns around, straddling Pete and holding him against the mattress. “Delicate, my ass.”

“I am.” Pete’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head, looking at Mikey warily. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Michael Jam-” He cuts himself off with a shriek as Mikey starts tickling him, both of them thrashing on the bed until they end up giggling in an exhausted heap. “Tickling is totally unfair. Just so you know.”

“Also unfair is the fact that our tickling session was the most action I’ve gotten in bed in ages.”

“Because you’re obsessed with the teenager.” Pete nods as Mikey blows out a frustrated breath. “Okay, so you’re obviously going to do this, which means I have no recourse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re pining away for someone who is very likely off limits, so I have to take drastic measures.”

“You’re going to host an intervention?”

“No.” Pete moves closer, pressing warmly against Mikey’s side. “I’m going to have sex with you to make sure you’re thinking with your head, not your dick.”

Mikey laughs softly. “You’re a giver.”

“I know. It’s hard being me.” Pete kisses Mikey’s cheek. “So, bend over.”

Mikey shoves him off the bed with one push, leaning over the edge of the mattress to look at Pete where he’s splayed on the floor. “In your dreams, Wentz.”

*

It takes two weeks, but he stops jumping every time the phone rings. He hasn’t gone to any shows, just on the off chance that William might be there, which doesn’t make any sense, but he can’t help the feeling that he _shouldn’t_ go. It’s ridiculous and Pete’s mocked him severely for it, reminding Mikey that a watched phone never rings and asking if William is straight, since Mikey’s being such a pussy. 

That kicks off a phone war that gets Mikey’s thoughts completely off William and the fact that he hasn’t called. The phone is a weapon, and when he answers it, he usually has to be wary that it’s one of Pete’s practical jokes, especially when it rings at three in the morning.

“I didn’t order any pizza, strippers or encyclopedias.” He fumbles for his glasses and manages to put them on, though he doesn’t turn on the light. “Anyone who says I did is a lying piece of shit.” There’s a strange silence, one that’s heavy enough that Mikey knows there’s someone on the other end of the line. Someone who probably has nothing to do with Pete. “It’s three AM.”

“Too late?”

Mikey pulls the phone back a moment and blinks at it, seeing William’s name black against the brighter screen. He clears his throat and closes his eyes, putting the phone back to his ear. “William?”

“Hello, Mikey.”

“I didn’t think you were going to call. It’s been two weeks, and…” He breaks off, realizing how he sounds. He clears his throat and lays back on his pillow, closing his eyes. “It’s three AM.”

“Should I call back another time?”

“No. No. I mean, now’s…this is fine.” He takes off his glasses and sets them on the nightstand, closing his eyes and listening to William breathe. “How are you?”

He laughs and heat coils through Mikey. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and pictures William, the way he looked when he laughed. “I’m fine, thank you. And yourself?”

Mikey fights a yawn, but in the end, it gets the better of him. “Tired.”

“Because it’s three AM.” William’s voice is lightly mocking, teasing. For a moment it reminds Mikey of Pete, and he smiles.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Mikey listens for tell-tale noises to let him know where William is, but all he hears is the slow, even rhythm of his breath. 

“I was sleeping.”

“Alone?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’ll guess you are, since I haven’t heard anyone ask who you’re talking to or if everything’s all right. So you live alone.”

Mikey feels the flush burning beneath his skin. “Did you call for a reason? Something other than to wake me up in the middle of the night?”

There’s a change to William’s voice, the teasing turned to a harder edge. “Well, I was hoping you’d tell me the time.”

It takes actual willpower not to through the phone across the room. He’s torn between being pleased with himself for pushing aback and worried that William might be angry, might hang up. “Three-seventeen.”

There’s a slight pause and then William laughs out loud, and Mikey can’t help picturing him. He wishes he could control the impulse, the image of William in his mind’s eye, but since Mikey first saw him, he’s been there, unbidden.

“What about you, Mikey?” William’s voice is softer now, and Mikey shifts down on the bed, covers to his chin. The hand not holding the phone is on his chest, thumb rubbing his sternum in time with William’s breaths. 

“What about me?” His own voice is different as well, quieter. Breathier. “I didn’t call you, remember?”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t want something.” Mikey tightens his grip on the phone as his other hand moves down, fingers ghosting over the slice of skin between his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, rubbing at the silky dark hairs below his navel. He anticipates the question, but it doesn’t stop the flood of sharp desire it brings. “What do you want, Mikey?”

Mikey’s fingers graze the elastic at his waist, nails scratching just beneath it. “Nothing.”

“Liar.” William’s voice is hot, and Mikey can see him in the pit, sweaty, shirt clinging to him, his skin glowing in the shine of the lights from the stage. “Tell me what you want.”

“Tell me how old you are.”

“You know how old I’m not, isn’t that enough?”

“Not twenty-one covers a lot of territory.”

“Just twenty years of it, and you can rule out a lot of those, unless I’m a very precocious and tall seven year old.”

“I don’t like you.” He know he sounds petulant, like a child himself. “You know that?”

“Then hang up.”

The silence between them is charged and Mikey grits his teeth, holding his breath for as long as he can as he slides his hand under his boxer-briefs, touching himself with a slow stroke of his fingers from base to tip. His body jerks when he finally takes a breath, his cock filling out further as William hums softly. 

“What do you want, Mikey?”

“I want to know how old you are.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.” He just uses his fingertips, not allowing himself to wrap his hand around his cock, to start stroking.

“Seventeen.”

Mikey huffs out a breath, frustrated and turned on in equal measure. “Shouldn’t you be asleep? I mean, isn’t it a school night?”

“Is that what you want?” The edge is back in William’s voice, dangerous and slightly angry. There’s a hint of warning in it, a challenge, and Mikey gives in and starts stroking. “You want me to hang up, Mikey?”

“N-no. No. Not…not yet.”

“Then tell me what you want.” He doesn’t have the words, or can’t voice them, unwilling to admit what he’s doing, what he wants, what William does to him. After a moment of silence, William laughs softly, and Mikey wonders if he knows what Mikey’s doing, that he’s lying in his bed, legs spread and jerking off to the sound of his breath. “We’ll talk again, Mikey.”

“W-wait.” He’s cut off mid-word as William hangs up, and he groans with frustration, dropping the phone and wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, desperate to come. He strokes for what feels like hours, his orgasm remaining elusive as he slumps back against his pillows, exhausted and pretty sure that, somewhere, William’s laughing at him.

*

Pete drags Mikey to a show the next weekend, ignoring all his protests. “You’re moping at home.”

“I’m not moping.”

“You’re totally moping, duder. You’re moping because you found out the hot dude is five years younger than you, which is absolutely no reason to mope, because he’s completely legal.”

“The fact that you know that off the top of your head is more than a little frightening. You’re aware of that, right?”

“What? It’s pertinent information.”

“For potential child molesters.”

“Hey, now. No need to be insulting.”

“You took offense. Maybe that means you’re aware of the fine edge of skeevy you balance on.”

“You’re hurting me here, Mikeyway. _Hurting me_.”

“Whatever. You’re totally going to hit on William, aren’t you?”

“Oh, man. Seriously. Cutting me to the quick here.” Pete shakes his head as they head down the sidewalk to the club. “Bros before hos, duder. Even when the hos are hot, smart-ass teenagers.”

“God, shut up, Wentz.” Mikey smiles and wraps an arm around Pete’s shoulders. “Don’t make me have to pretend I don’t know you.”

“As if I’d let you.” Pete dodges out of Mikey’s grip and walks backwards, grinning his typical wide, manic grin. “I will cling to you like a limpet if you try to ignore me. I’ve done it before. I’m not afraid to do it again.”

“You’re not afraid of anything.”

“Not if it’s vaguely humiliating, no. But heights, you know. Those kind of freak me out a little. So, you know, no dangling me off cliffs or buildings. Not nice.”

“I don’t have any plans to, so I think you’re safe.” Mikey digs his ID and cover out of his wallet and gets his wrist stamped. “Piss someone else off though and you’re on your own.”

“Mean.” Pete pays his own cover and slides into the darkness of the club behind Mikey. The music is loud, the first band thrashing around on stage and making noise that’s probably supposed to be music. “Wow. These guys are awful.” He grins again. “I love ‘em.” He charges into the crowd, a tiny determined mass working his way to the front of the pit. Mikey smiles a little and moves to the bar, not looking around, not _looking_. 

He makes his way through three beers and a shot of whiskey, watching Pete as he slams into the crowd, descending into a whirl of sweat and screams. Mikey loves watching him, loves seeing him let go completely and give himself over to the music, even when it’s not music so much as screams and a thundering bass drum. 

“Boyfriend?”

Mikey nearly spills his beer, jerking at the hot voice in his ear. “God, you’re like a fucking ninja.”

“Ninjas are quiet when they fuck.” He glances to the side and William is smiling, just as sharp as always. “I like noise.”

“You’re not old enough to know about fucking.”

“Really?” William’s eyebrows go up and he leans back against the bar, resting his elbows on the surface and watching Pete. “Good to know. So. The little guy. Boyfriend?”

“Call him a little guy to his face. I dare you.” Mikey focuses on Pete, not turning his head to look at William at all. “Though you might want to stand far enough back that he can’t punch you in the balls.”

“So he is.”

“He isn’t.”

“So why the evasion? Oh, maybe you’re dating him, but don’t want to be anymore.”

“I’m not dating Pete.” Mikey turns his head to glare at William. “And I’m not sure if you noticed, but I made it pretty clear that I’m not interested.”

“In dating Pete? Well, yeah. The height difference would be a killer after a while. Still. He looks like he’s got a lot of energy. Lots of stamina.” He takes a drink from a glass on the bar, and Mikey glances at it, wondering what it is, if William’s managed to find someone else to buy him a drink. He cuts his eyes to Mikey to catch him looking. “So he’s free.”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.” Mikey downs the shot of whiskey and manages the hint of a smile. 

William pushes off the bar and brushes against Mikey, working his way into the crowd. Mikey’s hand curls into a fist and he forces it down against his side, too tempted to grab William and keep him from moving away. William’s like a snake in the crowd, weaving between people without touching them. Mikey watches as people fill the gap he leaves behind, looking like they’re swarming in on him. 

Heat curls in Mikey’s groin and he wants to follow, wants to merge with the group until he’s pressed against William, until there’s nothing but the two of them. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He smacks his fist into his thigh and turns around, ordering another shot. “Make it a double.”

He doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to find William standing head and shoulders above most of the people, sweat making his hair cling to his scalp, his shirt stick to his skin. He starts when someone touches his elbow, squeezing into the space beside him at the bar. Pete’s sweaty as well, raw and earthy smelling and Mikey wants to bury his face against Pete’s neck, not just to inhale him but to make sure he’s really there, next to Mikey, and not out on the floor, pressed into William. 

“Mikeyway, you should get out there. It’s fucking insane.” He takes Mikey’s drink and then makes a face and gives it back, yelling at the bartender to give him something cold. He’s dripping sweat, his shirt skin-tight. “It’s like fight club. I think I punched a girl in the face.”

“Maybe.”

Pete grabs his beer and shoves some bills across the bar, taking a long drink from the bottle, his fingers causing droplets to form at the neck. “Is your guy here?”

“He’s not my guy.”

“He’s totally here.” Pete rises up on his toes and looks around. “Which one? C’mon.”

“Pete. Drop it.” Mikey drains the glass and slams it on the counter. “I’m serious.”

“Fine.” Pete’s jaw sets, but Mikey can see it’s more from determination than anger. “But you’re coming out on the floor with me.” He finishes his beer and hold’s Mikey’s gaze defiantly. “Now.”

Mikey glares back for a moment then rolls his eyes, relenting. “Fine.”

“Fine.” Pete grabs his arm and hauls him out to the pit, shouting out apologies as they plow through the crowd. He jerks Mikey close to him and then throws his head back to yell, a primal scream echoed by the crowd and the band. 

Someone slams into Mikey from behind and he lurches forward, bumping into Pete. Pete grins from ear to ear and pushes back into Mikey until they’re both lost in the push and pull of the beat. He forgets about William with Pete in the pit with him, forgets about everything but the release. It’s exactly what he needs, bleeding out all his stress and tension on the floor, feeling the birth of bruises underneath his skin. When the lights come up, he feels half-numb and completely alive. Pete breaks through a group of people and jumps up on Mikey’s back, wrapping his legs around him, his arm across Mikey’s throat.

“Told you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mikey laughs and spins until they bump into a group of people and Pete drops off his back, giggling. “Sorry. Sorry. I had a monkey on my back.”

“I’m not a monkey.” Pete shoves his shoulder into Mikey’s side, pushing him toward the door. “C’mon. Diner food is calling our name.”

“You’re addicted to grease.”

“Feed me, Mikeyway, I’m a growing boy.”

“Bullshit. You stopped growing in fifth grade.” They work their way through the crowd out of the club and toward the diner down the street. It’s been a long tradition of theirs, replacing sweat and exhaustion with greasy burgers and milkshakes. It’s actually more of an all-night café, missing the ambiance of a diner, but they still serve fries smothered in cheese and chili and omelets 24 hours a day. Mikey ruffles Pete’s wet hair and then disappears into the bathroom, scrubbing his face with a wet towel until he can feel the nerves tingling.

When he comes back out, Pete’s sitting at their regular table with a carafe of coffee, the surface of the two upturned mugs black as a slick of oil. “I ordered the usual.” He’s almost bouncing in his seat, the high not worn off yet. “Only double hash browns with cheese on them, since you always steal mine.”

“I don’t steal them. I annex them. It’s not my fault you don’t have good defensive borders.”

“I’ll stab you with my fork.”

“You’re not allowed a fork anymore. Not after last time.” 

“That was _not_ my fault. Anyway, Cheryl gave me a fork.” He brandishes it, jabbing at the air between them. “And I’m not giving it up, so don’t get any ideas, Way.”

“You’re a menace.” Mikey picks up his coffee and takes a careful sip, groaning as the heat hits his raw throat. “A danger to society. You’re going to get banned.”

“Whatever.” Pete sets the fork down and grabs sugar packets, tearing four open and pouring them in his coffee. “Tonight was the shit, man. Admit it; you’re glad I dragged your sorry, moping ass out of your apartment.”

“It didn’t suck.”

“Ha.” Pete does a victory dance in his chair, stopping to beam at Cheryl, the waitress, as she sets down their plates. It’s a smorgasbord of gluttony, chili fries and hash browns, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and a cheeseburger the size of a plate. “You are like a goddess, Cheryl.”

“I don’t know where you put all that junk, you two. You’re going to die of cardiac disease.”

“I know,” Pete grins and spears a sausage link. “We’re going to go out fat, greasy and happy.”

She laughs and turns away to go back to the counter, waving as the door opens. “Hey, Bill.”

“Cheryl, love of my life.”

“You’re not getting anything for free, Oliver Twist.”

Mikey recognizes the voice and turns his head just enough to watch William walk up to the counter. He pulls out one of the stools and settles on it, spinning it around as she walks through the hinged gate. He stops mid-spin, his feet hitting the ground as he spies Mikey and Pete. His smile sends a shiver up Mikey’s spine as their eyes meet. “Well, well, well.”

“Don’t go hassling my customers until they pay the bill and leave me a nice tip, Bill, or you’re going to find your stomach empty and your ass on the street.”

“Would I do that?” William slides off the stool and walks over, turning one of the seats at the table backwards and straddling it. “Mikey.”

“William.” Mikey nods jerkily and forces himself to turn and nod toward Pete. “This…um…This is…um…”

“Pete.” Pete shoves a chili fry in his mouth and sucks sauce and salt off his fingers before sticking his hand out. “Pete Wentz. Mikey’s wingman.” Mikey kicks Pete solidly on the shin and glares at him. “Ow. Fuck. Ow, Mikey. Jesus. I mean…just Pete. I’m not Mikey’s anything. Well, I am. I mean, I’m his best friend. But, you know, nothing _more_.”

Mikey kicks him again. “He’s notorious for not knowing when to _shut up_. Pete, this is William.”

“I’ve heard all about you.”

William smiles, and Mikey thinks he can actually tell the difference between them now. The current one is pure delight at Mikey’s obvious embarrassment, the dark red flush he knows is coloring his face. William leans in toward Mikey and tilts his head, his dark eyes intent. “Have you?”

“I m-might have mentioned you,” Mikey says grudgingly. “Once.”

Pete snorts and quickly puts a spoonful of his milkshake into his mouth. William laughs, and Mikey’s mesmerized, caught in his bright teeth and easy relaxation. “Well, I’m glad I’m somewhat memorable. Nice to meet you, Pete.”

“Ditto.” Pete gestures to the table. “Dig in. There’s enough here for four people, and if you don’t help, we’ll eat it all and then Cheryl will have to roll us to the El.”

Cheryl laughs from behind the counter. “You’re dreaming if you think I’d roll you anywhere. I’ve got people to serve.”

“You have us, Cheryl.” William calls back over his shoulder, his eyes still on Mikey. “You don’t mind if I join you, Mikey?”

“You’ve already joined us.”

“True.” William nods and stands, turning the chair back around properly. “May I join you?”

His first instinct is to tell him no, even though he’s pretty sure that would just mean William would sit somewhere else and stare at him, but if Mikey’s honest, he wants William there. Wants William. “Fine.”

“Your graciousness exceeds all of my expectations.” He goes over to the counter and orders a drink, then comes back and sits with them. Pete’s already on some topic of conversation that Mikey can’t follow at all once William sits down, his knee pressed against Mikey’s. Eventually the conversation fades as they eat, all of them digging into the pile of food. Pete asks William questions, giving him a variation of the third degree. None of the questions are of any actual consequence, though Mikey’s sure that knowing which Bowie song is his favorite could come in handy at some point.

“So.” Pete finishes the last of his milkshake with a loud slurp then sets the metal cup down on the table. “You’re interested in Mikey.”

“Pete!” William chokes back a laugh along with a mouthful of Coke, trying not to spray it all over the table. Mikey kicks Pete again hard. “God, shut _up_.”

“What? I’m just trying to get it out in the open. Clear the air. The tension is making my stomach upset. You know how delicate my constitution is.”

“You were watching Pride and Prejudice again, weren’t you?”

“No.”

Mikey rests his forehead against his hand and turns his head just enough to see William smiling. It’s different from all the other smiles Mikey’s used to. This one is genuine and actually amused. “Sorry. He’s kind of…”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a friend, Adam. It’s the same thing.” He looks over at Pete. “Yes. I’m interested in Mikey. However, Mikey is not interested in me.”

“In which universe?”

“This one.” William licks his lips, and Mikey knows he’s staring, can’t help it. “I’m too young for him.”

“You’re legal.” Pete kicks Mikey back and Mikey jerks, tearing his eyes away from William’s mouth. “He’s legal.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever, you know that?”

“See?” William stands up and digs his wallet out of the back pocket. He pulls out a handful of bills and sets them on the table. “Not interested. It was nice meeting you, Pete.”

“You too, dude. Join us any time.” Pete laughs as he dodges out of the way of Mikey’s kick. “Maybe wear shin guards. Mikey’s obviously got a problem.” He waves at William as he goes then looks at Mikey. “Stop kicking me.”

“Stop trying to set me up with the….with _him_.”

“He seems nice.”

“He’s a child.”

“A hot child who makes your insides do funny things.” Pete digs out his own wallet. “And don’t pretend he doesn’t, because I know you.”

“If you know me, you know it doesn’t matter, because he’s _seventeen_.”

Pete shakes his head, eating the last fry and sucking ketchup from his finger. “I do know you, Mikes, and you are going to be boning that boy by the end of the month. Mark my words.”

“Did I mention I hate you?”

“Only like five times tonight. You’re not even close to the record.” He nods toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s head home before the food coma hits.”

*

Mikey listens to Pete the entire way home, giving him a quick kiss goodbye on the cheek before walking the last few blocks home and crawling into his bed. He blinks blearily at his clock. It’s way too early or way too late, and he’s not sure which. He takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand and picks up his phone to make sure his alarm is off, because he has no intention of seeing any of the rest of the morning. All he wants to do is sleep, which doesn’t explain why he’s scrolling through his contacts to find William’s name and number.

“sorry abt pete.”

The reply is almost instantaneous, and Mikey has to put his glasses back on to read the response. “what abt him?”

“hes kind of a lot.”

“he was fine. I like him.”

Mikey frowns at the phone, not certain he likes where this conversation is going. “he likes u 2.” 

“nice to hear.”

Mikey sits up and pulls his knees to his chest, chewing at the inside of his lower lip before replying. “can pass his # on 2 u if u want.”

“why would I want petes #?”

“bcuz u like him.”

“said he was fine.”

“said u like him.”

“were going 2 discuss semantics?”

“what else should we talk abt?”

Mikey’s not sure what answer he wants, but when the phone rings in his hand, he shudders hard. He slides back down on the bed and presses the button to answer it just before it flips over to voicemail. “Yeah.”

“Let’s see.” William drawls softly. “What topics are good? We could discuss the time.”

“Not relevant on this call.” Mikey can’t help smiling. “It’s actually close enough to morning that people might be awake. Very strange and wrong people, but people nonetheless.”

“Movies? Books?”

“Video games? Nickelodeon shows?”

“Now you’re just being insulting. Besides, I bet you have just as many video games as I do.”

“I probably watch as many Nickelodeon shows too.”

“I don’t know about that,” William admits with a laugh. “I have a younger sister.”

“A likely story. You probably have the Disney Channel line up memorized and use her as an excuse.”

“I’m beginning to think you want to get in trouble here, Mikey.” It’s still light and teasing, but there’s something in it that makes Mikey’s breath catch, an implied threat or promise. William just lets the sentence hang in the air, heavy with intention. “Is that what’s going on here?”

“No. I’m…No.” Mikey closes his eyes, listening to William breathe in the darkness. 

“No? You don’t like trouble?”

It takes him a moment to find his breath around the hard beat of his heart in his throat. “I didn’t say that.”

William laughs, and this time it’s silk and pressure, like the hand Mikey presses against the front of his boxer-briefs. “I think I could come up with some trouble for you, you know. If you were interested.”

Mikey presses harder, curving his hand around the bulge of his dick. He wants to ask if William’s touching himself, if he’s turned on too, but he’s afraid of the answer, no matter whether it’s yes or no. 

His voice rumbles low in Mikey’s ear, like a lover half asleep as the sun comes up on Sunday morning. “What do you want, Mikey?”

“You.”

Mikey’s breath hitches as William hums approval. “Good boy. I’ll be in touch.”

One touch kills the silent phone and Mikey lets it fall to the bed, sliding his free hand down to wrap around his cock again, finishing the job he keeps letting William start.

*

He gets a text at work, nothing more than a date, the name of the club, and a time. His concentration is shot the rest of the day, so he spends it answering emails from his coworkers as vaguely as possible, wondering if it’s going to be like this the rest of the week waiting. He doesn’t tell Pete, because telling Pete would mean being subjected to ‘I told you so’ in a variety of languages, tones, accents and possibly mime. 

Making it through without checking for further updates requires locking his phone in his desk and piling papers on top of the key. There’s nothing to stop him from moving the papers, except the deals he makes with himself that he can’t touch the key and check until he’s finished the stack. It’s the most productive he thinks he’s ever been, but William doesn’t call or text again. By Friday, he’s on edge and snappish to everyone, including Pete and Gerard, which means he’s also spending a lot of time apologizing to the two of them. Pete takes it all in gleefully, sure of what it means, and Gerard blows smoke into the phone and asks Mikey if he needs him to fly out to Chicago and bust some heads.

Talking to Gerard gets Mikey’s mind off of William, and it’s a relief in a lot of ways to spend a couple of hours talking about comic books and movies, about the latest D&D campaign Gerard is running and how dumb, on a scale of Morlocks, Mikey thinks the next X-men series is going to be. Of course, the minute he hangs up, all the tension and heat coil back up inside him, making him itch to call William and find something sooner, something now.

Instead he makes it through the week and home from work on Friday night, hurrying into his apartment to change. He sheds his work clothes like a skin he’s not quite comfortable in, even though they’re casual enough, and showers the smell of paperwork off of him. William doesn’t wear any eyeliner that Mikey can tell, seems to stick to a more natural look, though the darkness of his eyelashes makes Mikey wonder sometimes. Still, he figures William’s liked what he’s seen, so he does up his jeans and leans in, bare-chested, to apply the thick smudge of eyeliner under his eye and at the outside corner. 

His hair is thin and fine, so he piles a ton of product in it, combing it down but leaving the ends wispy against his cheeks. It’s almost too long, hanging down to the top knob of his spine, so he leaves the back straight, letting it ghost at the base of his neck. He digs out one of his oldest t-shirts, a black nearly faded to gray that clings to his skin. He doesn’t have much as far as muscles go, but his arms are defined nicely enough, and the shirt accentuates them. 

“You’re dressing up for a child, Michael.” He sticks his tongue out at himself in the mirror as he slides his glasses up his nose enough to see the finished effect without blurred lines. “Of course, you’ve flat out admitted that you don’t give a shit about that, so get your phone and ID and go.”

He doesn’t move, standing there and forcing himself to exhale slowly. “Okay, so you do give a shit, but you’re pretending you don’t because he’s insanely hot and you want a piece of that and, you’re talking to yourself and starting to sound like Pete, so stop it.” 

He adjusts his glasses one last time, leaving them down low on his nose, but making sure they’re straight and then grabs his keys. It’s just a show. He’s gone to hundreds of them. It’s just a show.

It’s not just a show. He can tell the minute he sets food in the club, because the air is on fire. Whatever air system they have is either not working or there’s just too many people for it, because the place is packed, wall to wall. He looks for William, but doesn’t see him, but he can’t see much. The lights are all on the stage, except when they flash out into the audience and blind everyone. Mikey can feel the bass line pounding through the floors, and the whole building feels like it’s shaking. His heartbeat speeds up to match everything around him, and he pushes his way into the heart of the crowd.

He’s not sure how long he’s out there, breathing in sweat and musk and smoke, before he feels the hand on his hip. It’s different than the casual collide or the question that most fingers ask as they settle on his skin, and he knows it’s William. He leans back into him, his damp t-shirt like suction holding them together. 

William leans in a little, his voice loud enough to be heard, but soft enough that Mikey leans into him closer to catch every word. “Hey.”

“Hey. You’re here.”

“Said I would be.”

“You’re late.”

“I was watching you.” Mikey shivers and presses back, trying to get closer. William wraps his arm around Mikey’s waist, fingers resting on his waistband just over his fly. “You look good.”

“So do you.”

“You haven’t seen me yet.”

“Don’t need to see you.” Mikey smiles and turns his head, finding himself staring at William. His dark eyes are warm and his smile’s not sharp, but it’s still dangerous, still inviting. 

“Flattery, hmm?” William closes his eyes and hums a soft sound against Mikey’s temple. “I see how it’s going to be.”

“Dance with me.”

William’s other hand snakes around Mikey’s waist and pulls him closer until Mikey can feel the swell of William’s dick pressed against his ass, the hard muscles of his thigh curving along Mikey’s. “Is this dancing?”

“Close as we can get in this crowd.” Mikey rests his head on William’s shoulder, covering both of William’s hands with one of his own. “Hi.”

“You said that already.”

Mikey smiles and moves against him, feeling the music even more now that William’s there, humming along. He hums with the guitars while Mikey feels the bass, and it’s their own song suddenly, nothing to do with the band on the stage. It takes a moment to register the feel of William’s mouth on his neck, his tongue tracing rivulets of sweat on Mikey’s throat. Mikey moans and tilts his head, hips jerking when William’s teeth nip at his skin. 

William’s hand slides lower, fingers curving along the burgeoning bulge in Mikey’s jeans. Mikey rocks forward against him and then back, ass pressed hard to William’s dick. He keeps his head bent, exposed for William’s mouth. Teeth and tongue and lips move over his skin, replacing sweat with the dampness of William’s mouth. “Fuck.”

“Haven’t even kissed yet.” Mikey wants to groan, to shake him until he stops teasing him, stops mocking him, but that urge is overpowered by the need to grind back against William’s dick, to feel the hard thrust of it against his ass. “I think you’re making assumptions about what kind of boy I am, Mikey.”

Mikey steps back, easing his leg between both of William’s. It’s an easy fit, and they move together in unison without missing a beat, but then William steps back. Mikey groans under his breath and turns, unsure if he’s going to snap at William or beg him to press against him again. He stops when he sees William’s face. “What?”

“Smoke.” He’s looking out the open door where men in firefighting gear are urging people out the door. The house lights come on and the band starts yelling at the management until the overhead intercom tells everyone to evacuate in an orderly manner. That causes a chaotic rush that they all get swept up in, and only William’s fingers tucked under Mikey’s belt keep them together. Mikey can feel the panic around him, but the measured feel of William’s breath against his neck keeps him from giving in to it.

The building clears out quickly, and Mikey can feel the panic in the air, especially when they get outside and the heat of the fire seems to surge toward them. Mikey shivers and the hand William has on his hip tightens. “This way.”

Mikey follows at his touch, moving away from the crowd at the barriers the police and firefighters have set up. It’s easy to go with the pressure, move closer to William. They stop a ways away, well behind the crowd, just the two of them in a fake sense of privacy between the roar of the flames and the water, the flash of lights and the shadowed mob of people.

“Wow.” A spray of water seems to catch fire before it melts into smoke, and he can hear the warehouse snapping into pieces.

William’s thumb rubs just above the waistband of Mikey’s jeans, sliding under the hem of his t-shirt to the skin. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty in a kind of terrifying way.”

William smiles slightly, his breath warm against Mikey’s shoulder through the thin cotton. “Beautiful.”

Mikey smiles, shifting his stance to press into William’s touch. William keeps rubbing the skin with the pad of his thumb, then turns it, the nail scratching at Mikey’s skin.

“O-oh.” Mikey’s breath catches and his muscles tighten instinctively. He cuts his gaze to William in time to see the hot flare in his eyes. Mikey shudders hard, already waiting for the next touch.

William moves his hand away, smoothing his long fingers over Mikey’s hip. “You taking the train?”

He nods, barely resisting the urge to push into William’s space and find contact again.

“Come on. I’ll walk with you.”

Mikey follows along, a low thrum of frustration beating in his pulse. William catches his hand halfway and they walk together until they get to the turnstile. He pulls on Mikey’s hand and tugs him close. Mikey holds William’s gaze, trying to read whatever is in the dark brown. William’s smile doesn’t give anything away as he rests his fingers at the collar of Mikey’s shirt.

“You know what I think?”

Mikey shakes his head as William’s fingers press lightly against the hollow of his throat before sliding down, nails scraping at the fabric of Mikey’s shirt. 

“I think it’s going to be fun.” He steps away and waves. “I’ll call you.”

**

“He what?” Pete nearly cackles, and Mikey kicks him hard under the table.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m not. I’m just, you know, fucking impressed at his audacity. I mean, that’s kind of fucking evil.”

“Yeah. I _know_ ” Mikey takes a vicious bite of his croissant, licking melted chocolate that oozes out off his lower lip. “I was there.”

“I mean, he knew it got to you, right?”

“He didn’t grab my dick or anything to check, but yes, he knew.”

“Evil.” Pete grins into his coffee cup. “Truth or dare, Mikeyway?”

“I’m not taking off my pants, Pete. We’re running out of coffee shops to get kicked out of.”

“There’s always another coffee shop,” Pete argues as he rips a chunk of cake off with two fingers. “Anyway. So, truth?”

Mikey sighs. “Yeah. Truth.”

“It totally got you more turned on when he did that, didn’t it?”

Mikey takes another bite and chews, putting off answering Pete as long as he can, even though Pete’s smile gets wider and wider the longer he delays. “Oh, shut up.”

“Ha! I knew it!”

“You’re an asshole, Wentz.”

“Obviously you love that abut me. And your new man.”

“He’s not my new anything. Don’t be a dick.”

“Bet he’s at least your new jerk-off material.” Mikey’s pretty sure Pete’s going to break his face with his smile, and he’s only hoping for it to happen just a little bit. “You know, since we’re speaking of dick.”

“Calling you a dick isn’t the same thing.” Mikey licks the edge of his croissant, coating his tongue with chocolate. “but nice try.”

“This is me noticing you didn’t deny that he’s your jerk-off material.”

“You’re very clever.” Mikey takes another bite, talking around it. “No. Wait. I mean annoying.”

“Whatever. You love me.” Pete finishes his coffee, licking his lips. “Maybe you should call him.”

“Doesn’t work that way. Not yet at least.”

“Your weird sexual rituals are strange to me, Mikeyway.”

“I didn’t say anything about sex. You’re the one that has sex on the brain.” Mikey swallows the last of his coffee and sighs. “Not that I have anything against sex with him.”

“So call him.”

“He said he’d call me.”

“Since when do you care about that? You’re like the hot shit on the scene.”

“I am not.” He smirks at Pete’s look. “Okay, I usually am. But this guy just…I don’t know. He says things and I just want to do them, you know? Obey.”

“So you can’t call him because you want to do what he tells you.”

“Yes.”

“And he told you he’d call, which implies that you can’t call.”

“Yes.”

Pete narrows his eyes, looking at Mikey seriously. “This is one of those kinky things, isn’t it?”

Mikey blows out a breath and wishes he had more coffee. “Maybe.”

“And by ‘maybe’, you mean that you want him to tie you down and whip your ass raw.” One of the patrons glances over at their table and Pete smiles winningly at her, waving. “We’re speaking in metaphors. Don’t trouble yourself. Enjoy your latte.”

Mikey drops his head to the table. “Goodbye coffee shop.”

“Seriously, is that what you want him to do to you? Because, you know, nothing wrong with it, but sitting at work is going to be a bitch. Also, you know, he’s seventeen.”

“Shut up, Pete.”

“And he probably doesn’t know what to do with any of those little leather…” Pete stops as a man in a white shirt comes up to their table. Mikey recognizes the look of management. “Can we help you?”

“Don’t worry,” Mikey butts in, reaching for Pete’s wrist and tugging him out of the seat. “We’re leaving.” Pete takes a breath and Mikey slaps his other hand across Pete’s mouth. “Don’t make it worse.”

Pete mumbles something and licks Mikey’s palm. Mikey hisses at him, but doesn’t release his grip until he gets Pete outside. Pete scrunches his nose and turns, flipping the manager off through the window. “I was going to scream leather dildo fuckwad. You could have told him I have Tourettes.”

“I want to be able to have coffee vaguely near my apartment, Pete. Having to take the train before I can get caffeine is not the life path I have in mind.”

“Tourettes is a serious medical condition.”

“One you don’t have.”

“I could. You don’t know.”

“You don’t even know what Tourettes is, do you?” Mikey shoves his hands in his pockets and starts walking, matching his stride to Pete’s. “You’re a horrible human being.”

“I’m aware.” Pete grins. “It’s part of my charm.”

***

He gets off work two days later and heads outside, settling his sunglasses on his nose as he walks out of the building. He nearly runs into Carol from marketing when he sees William sitting on the edge of the fountain in the plaza talking to a tall, black guy Mikey recognizes from the clubs. He’s laughing at something William’s said and William’s smiling, the real one that throws Mikey’s senses out of whack. 

He adjusts his bag on his shoulder and heads down the steps toward the fountain, offering Carol a conciliatory wave as she heads in the other direction. She ignores him, which is pretty much par for the course, but he doesn’t really care, so he suppose that makes them even. William nods to the other guy who takes off on a skateboard, weaving through the crowd like a pro. Mikey watches a moment in appreciation then looks at William. “Hey.”

“You know Travie?”

“Yeah. Not well. Just from around the clubs.” Mikey shifts from one foot to the other, feeling William’s eyes as they move over him. His cock jerks slightly, filling just from the heat of his gaze. “You said you’d call.”

“I could go away and call you instead.”

“No.” He says it in a breathless rush. “No. No. This is good. How did you know where I worked?”

“I saw your business card at the diner.” He slides off the fountain and straightens, close enough that Mikey can feel the heat of his body. “You busy?”

Mikey shakes his head. “I don’t know. Am I?”

William smiles, slowly, something wicked in the curve of his grin. “You’re going to take me home.”

“I am.” It’s not an agreement, but it’s not a question either. 

“You are.”

“And…” Mikey exhales shakily and licks his lips. “And then?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” He reaches out and traces the tip of his finger along the fly of Mikey’s slacks, making Mikey’s cock jump again, making it harden more. “Watch a movie? Play video games? See what’s on Nickelodeon.” Mikey laughs, the sound choking off when William’s whole hand curves over his cock and he steps in closer. “Or maybe I’ll tie you down and fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

“O-o-oh.” Mikey can’t stop his hips from canting forward, thrusting into William’s palm. William squeezes him then steps back, looking Mikey over again.

“One of those.” He nods in the direction of the El station. “Lead the way.”

*

Mikey has to dig his fingernails into his thigh to keep his focus, to not get lost in the feeling of William’s thigh pressed against his. William’s not paying attention at all, lost in the book he’d dug out of his bag the second they’d gotten on the train. It makes Mikey want to scream that he’s not even close to as distracted as Mikey is, but at the same time, it’s exactly what Mikey wants. “This stop,” he says as he stands up, working his way through the crowd to the doors. William’s close behind him, his fingers hooked in Mikey’s belt again to keep from losing him. He lets go when they’re on the platform, tucking his book away as he follows Mikey out of the station and down the street.

“Do you live alone?”

“Mostly. Pete has a key and lets himself in a lot.” He finds his keys as he talks, unlocking the front door of his building and heading to the dim stairwell. “He’s out of town though.”

“Is he? What does he do?”

“A&R for a record company. He travels around to see new bands, offer contracts, rip them off mercilessly in the name of getting signed.” He frowns and pushes his sunglasses up, even though he can’t see well with them on inside. They’re a layer of protection. “He works for a good group though, so they rip them off slightly less.”

“So he only sort of screws them.”

“Yeah.” Mikey smiles and opens the door into one of the corridors, leading William toward his apartment. “It’s the one time in their lives that not getting completely fucked will be a good thing.”

William makes a thoughtful noise and Mikey almost misses the keyhole, his mind offering up other scenarios in lieu of that one. He manages to get the door unlocked and opens it. William waits for Mikey’s nod then goes inside, and Mikey tries to see it through his eyes, wonders what his impression is given that Mikey’s main decor consists of bagged comic books, action figures, movie posters and some framed photographs, overexposed and too bright, distorted views of New Jersey. 

“I expected something different.”

“Really? What?”

“I don’t more. More stylistic stuff. You strike me as someone into minimalism, sharp lines, distinct colors, bold print.” He shrugs and moves closer to one of the small framed lobby cards. “Is that signed by John Waters?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s sick.” William turns and looks at him, evaluating him. “Undress.”

“I…”

“Now.”

Mikey jerks his head in a nod and sets his bag on the chair, shucking off his wool coat and draping it over the bag. He toes off his shoes and steps on the toes of his socks to work them off while he pulls his shirt over his head. The apartment isn’t warmed up yet, so he feels bumps rising on his skin, chills chasing up and down his spine, fighting against the heat pooling in his groin. He undoes his belt and starts on his fly when William steps closer, his fingers curling around the belt buckle and tugging it free from Mikey’s slacks. “Wh-.”

“You’re not undressed yet.”

Mikey focuses on his fly, undoing the zipper and letting the pants fall, pooled at his feet. He eases the elastic of his briefs over his dick. The fabric is damp, a wet spot spread across the gray fabric. He shoves them down and steps out of them, kicking them and his pants aside and standing there. He knows he’s good looking, despite his awkward knees and general inability to stand up straight, but he feels uncertain in William’s gaze. 

William walks closer, his fingers grazing over Mikey’s shoulder and down his arm, across the small of his back and his hip. He doesn’t touch anything he hasn’t already had contact with on the dance floor, but the skin against skin chases away any remaining chill so that all Mikey feels is heat. He circles around Mikey and stops in front of him again. Mikey’s dick strains upward, the head slick as it bobs against his stomach. 

“Look at you.” William sounds exactly like Mikey first imagined out on the dance floor, voice rough and thick and forceful. Mikey ducks his head obediently, watching his cock respond to William’s closeness. He reaches out and Mikey’s cock jerks again, desperate to be touched, but instead he scrapes his nail across one of Mikey’s nipples.

“O-oh…I…”

“Hush.” He purrs the word and Mikey snaps his mouth shut without another word. The satisfied smile William gives in response almost as good as the second scratch of his nail. “Good boy.” It takes all of Mikey’s will to remain standing, and even then he can feel his knees start to give way. William notices, cocking an eyebrow then nodding to the floor. “On your knees.”

Mikey sinks down gratefully, bowing his head and sliding his hands behind his back. He hooks his fingers around one wrist and waits. He can feel the tension in the room like sweat on his spine and he wants to look up at William, see his face, see his reaction. He forces himself to stay still, trying not to let his body show his reactions. He can feel the muscles quivering beneath his skin in spite of his best efforts, and he squeezes his wrist tighter to try and quell them.

“Go to your room and wait for me.”

He doesn’t intend to nod, but his head bobs in response as he lowers himself to his hands as well. He makes his way to the bedroom, the awkwardness he can’t help when he’s standing actually accentuating the sway of his hips as he crawls. He can hear William’s low hum and the surge of blood into his cock makes him momentarily lightheaded. He stops beside the bed, resting his head against the mattress, waiting.  
Mikey knows the moment William comes back into the room without even looking. The air changes, tension sparking. He drops his head a little further, watching the movement of William’s feet as he closes the distance between them. He touches the back of Mikey’s neck, stroking one finger down to the knob of Mikey’s spine. “Up.”

Mikey scrambles up on the bed, staying on his knees. When he looks up for a quick moment, William’s mouth is curved into a smirk and he looks older than he is

“The question is whether or not you can behave.” He ghosts two fingers along Mikey’s jaw. “On your back. Eyes closed.”

Mike does as he’s told, willing his body to stay loose and relaxed. It’s hard when he can feel William’s gaze raking over him. His cock is painfully hard and he can feel the wet gloss of pre-come on the head. “Look at you.” There’s a kind of awe in William’s voice and Mikey’s reminded that he’s just seventeen, and he’s tempted to ask if William’s ever done anything like this. The words die in his throat when William straddles him, the denim of his jeans rough against Mikey’s bare skin.

There’s a long silence, one he can’t parse, and then it’s broken with the familiar click and whir of a lighter. Pete’s voice is suddenly screaming in his head that he’s alone with a stranger, that no one knows where he is. His erection droops as he hears the flame spit.

“Are you frightened?” William’s voice is soft, taunting. “Wondering what I’m going to do to you?”

Mikey’s breath hitches, jerking in his chest. He nods, a barely-there incline of his head.  
“Really? I don’t believe you.”

“I w-wouldn’t lie.”

“I think you are.”

“W-w-why?”

William’s finger brushes along Mikey’s collarbone from his sternum to his shoulder, then he reverses its path, letting his nail scrape against the skin. “Your eyes are still closed.”

“You told me to close them.” He knows that’s the wrong answer, and Pete would probably lock him in his closet or something at this point if he were here, but where William is concerned it’s the _right_ answer, and that’s all Mikey cares about.

The lighter whirs to life again and this time Mikey doesn’t flinch. “That’s right. I did.” The lighter snaps shut and Mikey grabs the sheet beneath him, trying hard not to jerk at the sound. He obviously doesn’t succeed as well as he hoped, because William laughs softly and tightens his knees, holding Mikey still. “Don’t move.”

It’s a command wrapped in a purr and Mikey holds his breath, waiting. It feels like hours of suspense before a flash of searing heat shoots through him, wax splattering on his chest. The drops keep falling in a regular pattern, starting just below his nipple and making a line down to his hip. His cock aches, sliding against William’s body as he tries to thrust his hips up, tries for friction.

The drops change then, longer pauses between them, more wax splashing on his skin every time the candle tilts. His back arches, his head falling back and his mouth opening. Whimpering softly, he turns his head to the side as a hot flash of wax lands on his nipple. His hips jerk, thrusting up as William grinds down. “O-oh, god. Yes.”

The next splash lands on the other nipple and Mikey’s head slams back on the pillow. He can tell by the way it explodes on his skin that it’s from a distance, can feel the tendrils of wax along the side of his ribs, but then there’s heat, intense and getting hotter, sharp and almost painful as it melts the drying wax on his nipple again, heat licking at his skin. Mikey’s hands shake on the bed, moving on their own to grip William’s thighs, fingers digging into the denim.

“Look at me.”

Mikey opens his eyes, the burnished gold glow of the candle in his peripheral vision, but his focus is completely on William above him. Everything has a slightly waxy scent and he can feel the scattered wax drying on his skin, catching in the dark hairs in the center of his chest.  William smiles, and it’s innocent and wicked all at once and Mikey wants him _now_ and _deep_ , but instead he has the scrape of William’s fingernail against his skin, then the sharp rip of wax free from his body.

“Fuck!” Mikey bucks up off the bed, whole body contracting. William tightens his thighs even further and rests his hand against the front of Mikey’s throat, curving his palm over his Adam’s apple and pressing just enough to keep Mikey still.

“Told you to hold still.” He removes his hand and rips off another star of wax and Mikey twists his head from side to side, trying to not to move beneath him. William’s nail picks at the edge of another wax splatter and Mikey’s muscles tighten, bracing himself for it. Instead of the rip against his skin, there’s another drop of hot wax just below his navel. 

Mikey cries out and William leans in, letting a slow trail of wax drip up Mikey’s abdomen. He can feel the candle’s heat and smell it burning. “Do I need to gag you, Michael?”

He can’t control the noise he makes despite William’s warning. A hot splash of wax hits the base of his throat and sprays down, hardening against his sweat-slick skin. William laughs softly as Mikey gasps again. 

“Open your eyes.”

Mikey does, not remembering when he’d closed them again. The candle casts a glow over William’s skin, giving his hair a halo. Mikey stares up at him, eyes wide. Mikey’s cock is so hard it hurts, aching from root to tip.

William sets the candle down and reaches behind him. When he brings his hand back in front of him, the edges of Mikey’s belt scrape against Mikey’s thigh. “Open.”

Mikey opens his mouth obediently, the leather rough as William presses it into his mouth. He closes his teeth around it, his tongue pressing against it as he lifts his head, letting William slide the ends behind his head, fitting the buckle against Mikey’s skull. Mikey feels come dripping on his stomach, sticky strings of it caught between the tip and his skin. His head falls back to the pillow and the metal digs in slightly. His eyes fall closed and he sucks against the leather as another splash of wax hits him.

He loses track of time, of everything. Heat and the hardening of the wax giving way to the different heat left behind when William rips the wax off. Mikey feels sharp twinges as the wax catches hair, ripping it free. Eventually it stops and William leans in over him. Mikey opens his eyes, seeing William through a haze of pleasure and pain. 

“Beautiful.” He’s smiling, and Mikey feels inordinately pleased with himself, even though he’s only been floating in his head, not actually doing anything. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

Mikey mewls against the belt as William pulls away. Panic threatens darkly at the edges of his vision and he feels trapped. The fact that he’s not tied down, not held down in any way doesn’t register, and he can feel his heart and his breathing speed up.

William comes back in the room and tears sting Mikey’s eyes as relief rushes through him. He tries to blink them away, but they keep coming, trailing down his face, into his ears and hair. William straddles him again and rubs his thumb through the wet. “Such a good boy.” His voice is soft, soothing and Mikey feels the tension ease slightly. “Did exactly what you were told.”

Mikey nods, sighing softly as he relaxes beneath William’s weight. His jaw aches, and he wants to say something, thank William or beg him or both. Instead he rolls his hips upward, feeling his cock press against the curve of William’s ass. He makes a noise deep in his throat at the feeling and does it again.

William’s fingers brush over Mikey’s nipple again, and Mikey sucks in a hard breath at the sudden shock of cold. It’s followed by the weight of something cold on Mikey’s abdomen and then the wet drip of water. Mikey chokes on a sound as William traces where his fingers had been with the curve of an ice cube, tracing the marks from where he’d pinched him down to the splotches of red Mikey knows the wax left behind.

Moaning through the belt, Mikey arches up, trying to get pressure on his dick as William shifts, keeping away from him. Frustration courses through Mikey’s limbs, his head and all he wants is sensation, pressure. Instead the ice leaves a kind of heat in its wake, too cold for Mikey’s body to process correctly through the haze of sensation overload. He can feel liquid trailing down his cock, unable to control anything. His limbs are too heavy to lift and he feels drugged. Everything is hazy, unrecognizable and he starts to drift, the stinging bite of cold on his stomach beyond hurting. 

He loses all track of time and place, though he can distantly hear himself moaning, the sound muffled by the belt. He’s vaguely aware that his mouth should hurt, his dick should ache, but there’s nothing except a white bubble of the world pressing down on him. He should be choking on it, but instead he breathes it in.

Mikey’s not sure when it stops, but he slowly comes back to himself, like some sort of out-of-body experience, floating back down to his body. Muscles tingle and pins and needles stab through him. He can lick the corners of his mouth and feel the dry, stretched skin, taste a hint of blood where it’s cracked. There’s a circle of pain at the base of his ribs, but he can’t describe it, even to himself. It feels numb and hurts all at once. 

There’s a sticky wet on his stomach and thighs that’s drying rapidly on his skin. His mind doesn’t process what any of it means, but he turns his head when he feels fingers carding through his hair. It takes a few moments for his eyes to focus, for William’s shape to coalesce out of the gray. Mikey tries to say something, but nothing gets past his dry throat.

“Welcome back.” There’s a hint of humor in William’s voice and he tilts Mikey’s head, his hand cupping the back of it. There’s wet in Mikey’s mouth and he drinks the water greedily. It hurts to swallow, but not more than the water feels good, but William pulls it back before Mikey feels close to sated. “Not too much. Don’t want you to choke.”

Mikey moves his mouth and swallows and it works better this time. “I...”

“Shh. Not yet. Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

Those words have an instant affect on Mikey and he does as he’s told, sinking back against his pillow. William touches him again, hand going back to Mikey’s hair and stroking. Mikey closes his eyes and turns just enough to press closer to William. William presses a gentle kiss to Mikey’s shoulder. “Th...th’k you.”

“Mm,” William hums. “My pleasure.”

**

Mikey grabs his phone when it rings, even though he’s not quite awake. “’lo?”

“I’m calling from inside the house.”

“Fuck off, Pete.” He keeps his eyes closed and turns, burying his face in the pillow.

“Is that any way to treat your very best friend in the very whole wide world?” 

Mikey doesn’t actually need the phone to hear Pete. Pete comes into the bedroom and crawls up the bed, laying on top of Mikey. “Ge’ ‘ff.”

“Nope. Never. This is non-consensual hugging.” Pete wraps his arms around Mikey and nuzzles the back of his neck. “Or, well, you’ve known me forever. The consent is assumed. What’cha doing?”

“Was sleeping.”

“I’ve been calling. Well, not calling, but thinking about calling, but you never got my psychic message and called me. That hurt my feelings, so I thought I should come over and check and make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Your confidence in my survival skills is heartening.” Mikey turns his head so that he can breathe and talk without his pillow catching in his throat. “’s William here?”

“Oooooh. Your silence begins to make sense. Should I be jealous that you were psychically screwing around on me?”

“Was all physical. Get off me.” 

Pete rolls off and proceeds to press up against Mikey’s side. “Tell me everything. Leave no detail unmentioned. No kink unexplored. Let me live vicariously through your wild sex life.”

“Or you could get one of your own. Have absolutely consensual snuggles. With dick.”

“I do like snuggling dick.” Pete wriggles closer. “You had a good night? I didn’t know he was coming over.”

“Neither did I. He just showed up. And, well.” Mikey can feel the blush, and he wonders if it hides the dark red splotches he knows are still on his skin from the wax. Pete gives him a look, so Mikey tells him everything that he can remember, including the last moments of consciousness before he fell asleep, head on William’s chest. “It was...”

“Wow.”

“Mm. Wow.” Mikey closes his eyes again. “Feels so strange to feel like this.”

“Like what? Good? Happy? Well-fucked?”

“Didn’t fuck me.”

“You look like you got fucked. Like really fucked.” Pete reaches out and presses against one of the red spots on Mikey’s skin. “Fucked up. And fucked.”

“Maybe next time.” Mikey buries his face against Pete’s throat. “Wanted him to be here this morning.”

“I bet he stayed. Maybe he had to go to work or something. School.”

“Shut up. He’s totally out of high school.”

“Yeah, maybe because it’s summer vacation.” Pete smirks.

“You’re a dick. Why am I friends with you again?”

“Good looks? Charm? Sex appeal?” Pete turns his head and kisses Mikey’s nose. “My amazing snuggling abilities? The fact that I have a key and you haven’t figured out how to get rid of me?”

“That’s it. The last one. You hit the nail on the head.”

Pete leans in and bites Mikey’s nose this time, growling and shaking his head like a dog. “You’re the worst best friend ever.”

“I’m your favorite,” Mikey reminds him. Because I put up with you.”

“So.” Pete reaches up and scratches Mikey’s head. “What’s next in the saga of your epic romance?”

“Romance has nothing to do with it.”

“Well, it can’t be just sex, because you didn’t have sex.”

“How many times do I have to explain to you that sex is more than someone sticking their dick in you?”

“Lots. Tell me all the other ways you can have sex. But let me take my pants off first.”

“You are the worst.” Mikey bats Pete’s hand away as he tries to press on another red patch of skin. “What did you do last night?”

“Saw another awful band then caught the red-eye home. I was going to go to my place, but I figured you missed me.”

“You did, huh?”

“I also figured I could convince you to make me breakfast.”

“No you didn’t.” Mikey gives Pete a knowing look.

“Well, I figured you’d maybe have food at least.” Pete sighs as Mikey’s expression doesn’t change, then he yawns widely. “I knew you’d have coffee?”

“That I believe.” Mikey shifts on the bed so that Pete has more room to stretch out. “Tired?”

“As fuck, dude.” Pete’s eyes are already closing. “When will you see him again?”

“Don’t know.” 

“Seriously, Mikes, it’s like he can see directly into your brain. The pleasure thing. Hippopotamus.”

“Hippocampus?”

“’s what I said.”

“Not even close.”

“There was a hippo.” Pete yawns again. “Can you stay in bed with me?”

“For a while.”

“And then coffee?”

Mikey laughs. “Sleep.”

“Tell me more about your baby bossy boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Couldn’t think of another word that started with B.” Pete’s voice is fading, and his eyes are closed. “Couldn’t use boytoy. ‘m pretty sure that’s you.”

“You’re such a dick. Go to sleep.”

“M’kay. If you insist.”

Mikey lies there watching Pete sleep. He tries to fall asleep, tries not to think about William. He fails miserably so he climbs out of bed and goes to shower. He’s sore all over and, looking at himself in the mirror makes him hurt even more. The bright spot on his collarbone extends from one side to the other, dark and pulsing in the hollow of his throat.

He presses on the stop with the tips of his fingers just like William did with the hot wax, and his cock jerks both in pleasure and in memory. He hears Pete move on the bed so he holds still, fingers still pressing. He bites his lip to keep from moaning and turns the water on in the shower. 

He knows he should climb in when it’s cold to try to get his head on straight, but his fingers are still at his throat and he knows there’s no chance he’s not going to be jerking off. And, by the time he’s done, the water will probably be cold again.

**

Mikey gets a text a couple of days later while he’s lying in bed supposedly trying to sleep but, in reality, pressing on the last red marks that haven’t quite faded. He grabs his phone and blinks at it in the dark.

“barrington high. bring beer & blanket. i’ll take care of everything else.”

Mikey reads it through three times before he texts Pete. “oh god he really is in high school.”

Pete’s only reply is a text. ‘hot.” Mikey’s tempted to throw the phone at him the next time he sees him. He’s not, however, tempted to stay home at all. Even if William _is_ in high school.

He’s going to hell.

He drives to the grocery store and, unsure what William might want, he bypasses the multiple beer options and grabs a bottle of whiskey instead. Pretty much any high school kid can get beer.

There are absolutely no cars in the school parking lot when Mikey gets there, so he parks around the block and walks back. His phone buzzes and he starts, nearly dropping the bottle and the blanket.

“football field.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” Mikey slips behind the building in the dark, waiting for a motion light to flare on or a security guard to shine a flashlight in his face. Nothing happens except he runs into a fence in the dark and curses under his breath as he uses it to guide him to the gate between the bleachers.

William is leaning against the white wooden fence that serves as a barrier at the bottom of the bleachers. Mikey can’t see his face, but he can feel William looking at him.

“Come on.” William heads to the end of the bleachers and disappears down the stairs. Mikey follows him out onto the field. There’s a gym bag on the grass. 

“What are we...”

“High school staple, right?” William smiles and Mikey nods, even though he’s not completely sure what William’s talking about. “Homecoming queen gets defiled by the quarterback on the football field.”

“And then they both get killed by some guy with a hatchet. Or a machete.” Mikey looks around. “Or a hook.”

William laughs and Mikey tries to fight the smile of pleasure it gives him. “Spread out the blanket.”

Mike does as he’s told then looks at William. “Am I the cheerleader or the quarterback?”

William’s smile makes Mikey’s whole body hot. Mikey’s cock goes from half-hard in anticipation to fully erect, straining against his jeans. “Which do you think?”

Mikey bites his lower lip and squeezes his thighs together. William nods to the blanket and Mikey sits down. “Do...um, do you want a drink?”

William kneels on the edge of the blanket and walks on his knees up to Mikey. “Open the bottle.”

Mikey’s hands shake slightly, but he gets the bottle open and offers it to William. William raises an eyebrow and Mikey lets out a shaky breath, tilting the bottle for him. William doesn’t look away as he drinks, and Mikey has trouble swallowing. 

He pulls the bottle back, spilling whiskey on his hand. William licks his lips. “Lick it off.”

Mikey manages to set the bottle down without spilling any more. He lifts his hand and sucks at the liquid. William’s smile is hot and sharp, and Mikey feels it in his blood, flaying his nerve endings. 

William leans in and licks Mikey’s hand as well, following the movement of Mikey’s tongue with his own. “Undress.”

“H-here?”

“Can’t defile you while you’re wearing that.”

“I...but we’re in...someone could see.” Mikey nearly groans at the thought at the thought, his cock pressing hard against his jeans. 

“Very true.” William takes Mikey’s hand and turns his wrist, flicking his tongue against Mikey’s pulse. “Undress.”

Mikey stares at William for a long minute then tugs his hand free of William’s so he can reach to grab his shirt and tug it over his head. He shivers from both the change in temperature as well as from the fact that he’s half-undressed in public.

“Very good.”

William’s voice makes Mikey shiver again, this time with pure heat. Mikey swallows hard and leans back on one elbow, using his other hand to undo his fly. William makes a noise in his throat and Mikey looks over at him quickly. William traces a finger up Mikey’s leg.

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Let me take you right here.”

“Yes. I...I want...”

“So easy.” his finger moves up and runs along Mikey’s open fly. Mikey’s dick pulses and his hips rock up. “Easy for anyone, Mikey?”

“No. You. For you.” Mikey realizes how true it is once he says it. In the club it had been William’s hips and the attitude he’d exuded. Now it’s something else, something raw inside him that comes alive, something raw for William.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you, Mikey?”

Mikey’s hips cant up into William’s touch again. “Yes.”

“Close your eyes.”

Mikey does as he’s told, closing them tight enough that he sees spots of light behind his eyelids. He gasps when William grabs his wrists, biting his lower lip as William strokes Mikey’s pulse with his thumb.

There’s a long silence that feels heavy to Mikey and he’s about to open his eyes when he feels the silky smoothness of rope against his wrist. His mouth falls open, but he doesn’t make a sound. William guides Mikey’s hand above his head and eases him flat onto his back before placing the other arm over Mikey’s head as well. The rope slips easily over Mikey’s other wrist and every muscle in his body tenses as William tightens the loops around his wrists.

“Like this, Mikey? Tied up? Sprawled out naked on public?” There’s a rough laugh in William’s voice. “Scoring a touchdown on the football field?”

“Yes. Y-yes if you...if you want. Yes.”

“Look at me.” Mikey opens his eyes and looks at William. William takes a drink from the whiskey bottle, licks his lips and shakes his head. “Not here.”

“B-but...”

William gets to his feet in one fluid motion and reaches down. Mikey moves his hands toward him and William strokes the rope before clasping Mikey’s hands in his and pulling him to his feet. Mikey’s jeans slip low on his hips as he stands. William reaches down and grabs his duffel bag then swings it over his shoulder. He hooks a finger around the rope between Mikey’s wrists and tugs lightly. “Come on.”

Mikey follows obediently, staying a couple of steps behind William so he can feel the pull of the rope on his wrists. William leads him back toward the bleachers and then down a set of concrete steps to a gray door. Mikey blinks at William in the dim light of a naked bulb that’s hanging right over the door. The door is propped open with a football helmet and William swings the door open, kicking the helmet inside. 

Mikey follows William through the door. The smell of sweat hangs in the air. There’s an unlit room that echoes with a drop of water, a rolling basket of crumpled towels right beside the door. The lockers are as tall as William. The light from the coaches office is on, causing them to cast strange shadows against the walls. 

“Sit.”

Mikey sits on one of the benches and waits. William releases the rope, so Mikey settles his hands in his lap.

“Shoes off.”

Mikey kicks his shoes off, waiting for further instructions. William looks him over then catches the rope between Mikey’s wrists again and pulls him to his feet. Mikey’s jeans feel too tight on him, even though they’re unzipped, and he wants them off. Wants William’s eyes on all of him.

William uses his free hand to push Mikey’s pants off his waist and they fall to the floor at his feet. Mikey’s cock is a full, thick curve against his boxer-briefs. The dark spot on the fabric spreads when William presses his finger against it, against the head of Mikey’s dick.

“Get undressed.”

The rope brushes Mikey’s stomach when he pushes his underwear down, kicking it off with his jeans. He steps on the toe of one sock until he gets it off, then does the same with the other. William leans against a locker and watches him with half-closed eyes, his face in shadows.

William lets the duffel bag slide down his arm and catches it with his hand. He turns and walks toward the showers and Mikey follows. Mikey’s cock brushes his stomach with every step, and there’s a strip of sticky wet across his skin.

William glances back and holds out his hand. Mikey settles the rope against William’s palm and keeps walking behind him. They reach the far wall and William tugs Mikey forward so he can hook the rope over the shower head, leaving Mikey facing the tile, the only light the fuzzy green of the exit sign.

Mikey feels the rough canvas of the bag against his ankle when William sets it down, but he keeps his eyes on the wall when William bends down to open it. He clenches his hands into fists when William slides his fingers up the inside of Mikey’s thigh. “Wider.”

Mikey shifts his feet further apart, and William strokes the tip of his fingers up to Mikey’s balls then squeezes them. Mikey moans softly and William tightens his grip. Rising up on his toes, Mikey tries not to make another noise, but then William releases him and runs his fingers back to press against Mikey’s opening and he can’t help moaning again.

“What should I do to you?” William rubs circles around the tight hole and Mikey tries hard not to clench his muscles. “Finger you? Fuck you?”

“Yes.”

“Anything I want.” It’s not really a question, and something about that makes Mikey relax. William understands, which makes it worse when William pulls his hand away. Mikey whimpers, the soft sound thick in his throat. “But I think something else tonight.”

Mikey closes his eyes, trying to imagine what William could have in store for him. There’s a soft whirring sound that Mikey doesn’t recognize and then William’s pressed against him, something cold on his hands as they move over Mikey’s stomach. There’s a scent in the air and Mikey looks as William smears shaving cream all over his stomach and then down to the top of his dick. “O...oh.”

William moves around him and Mikey immediately misses the heat of his body. He sprays more shaving cream into his palm and then reaches for Mikey’s balls, coating them before he slides his fingers through the dark hair surrounding Mikey’s cock. 

“What would the janitor say if he walked in right now?” William’s voice is conversational, but it makes Mikey’s whole body shudder. “Naked. Tied up.” Two of William’s fingers, slippery with shaving cream, rub the outside of Mikey’s opening, pressing against him, but not enough to penetrate. “Helpless.”

Mikey presses back into William’s touch and groans softly with frustration as William moves his hand away. Mikey takes a shaky breath and dares a glance over his shoulder at William.

“What would you do if he walked in?” William holds Mikey’s gaze, his mouth curved up in a smirk.

Mikey licks his lips and swallows hard. “Whatever you wanted me to.”

“That’s right.” William pushes the duffel bag out of the way with his foot and turns on the water, just a slow trickle that runs down Mikey’s back and into the crack of his ass. It’s cold and distracting, but not enough to make Mikey look away from William as he reaches into the bag and pulls out a razor. Mikey’s not surprised to see it, but the realness of it, the way the green light glints off the blade makes him gasp.

William starts at the base of Mikey’s ribs, guiding the razor down in short little strokes, moving from Mikey’s right side over to his left. He moves the blade between Mikey’s legs to rinse it off in the water running down Mikey’s back and then starts again, an inch lower. 

Mikey swallows hard and watches, trying to breathe as the razor moves further and further down. It seems excruciatingly slow, William being meticulous and methodical. Mikey’s whole body quivers as William scraps the blade down the curve of Mikey’s hip to his dick, the pressure of the plastic against his hard cock making his knees give slightly. “Oh, g-god.”

“Careful. Wouldn’t want to make me slip.”

“N-no. No.” Mikey tries to hold still, resting his weight on the rope, letting it pull at his wrists as it hangs over the shower head. He bites his lower lip and watches, unable to look away as the razor rasps against his skin, sliding down to his cock before William pulls it away and then finds another strip of skin. Mikey swallows dryly, exhaling a long, shuddering breath.

William rinses the razor and glances up at Mikey. His eyes are dark, and Mikey can tell his pupils are blown out even in the lack of light. William licks his lips and smiles then wraps his fingers around Mikey’s dick, lifting it out of the way as he starts to shave around it. Mikey whimpers and tries not to move. The water is echoing but all Mikey can hear is the scrape of metal on skin, see the hairs circle the drain before disappearing. 

Mikey can feel his cock leaking as William uses his wrist to hold it up as the razor cuts through the shaving cream on his balls. Mikey’s whole body feels week and, even with the cold water, he feels lightheaded. He’s sweating and shaking and thankful for William’s steady hand. 

He sways slightly as William sets the razor down then traces his fingers over the newly shaved skin. Mikey twitches in reaction, his skin strange and sensitive. William slides his hand down lower, along his thigh and to his balls, cupping them and rubbing his thumb over the skin. Heat feels like it’s boiling in Mikey’s blood and when William scratches his nail against the bare skin, everything falls apart in a hot jolt and Mikey comes.

His knees give out before he can get a grip on the shower head and his shoulders scream in protest. William’s on his feet almost instantly, carefully freeing Mikey’s hands and guiding them down. Mikey doesn’t waist time, dropping to his knees without feeling the impact of the tile. 

He presses against William, undoing his belt and pushing them open enough to get his dick out. Mikey moans when he sees it, muting the sound when he takes William in his mouth. William’s long and thick, and his first thrust hits the back of Mikey’s throat. He fights the gag reflex and sucks hard, wanting to choke on William’s cock when he swallows him down.

There’s a screech that Mikey thinks might be the locker room door until he gets hit with the full spray of cold water. He gasps and shivers, goosebumps rising on his skin, but he sucks harder, gripping William’s thighs as water soaks into the denim. 

William’s breathing hard and Mikey revels in the fact that he’s making William make that sound. He takes William deeper, and he can feel the scrape of William’s zipper against his face and he desperately hopes it leaves marks.

William makes a noise and his hips jerk and Mikey feels hot come against his tongue. His throat constricts for a moment and then he sucks hard, wanting every last drop.

He’s not sure when the water stops, but it’s off when he pulls back, blinking up at William through wet eyelashes.

“G-get up.” Mikey struggles to his feet, holding onto the wall for support. William shakes his head and carefully undoes the rope around Mikey’s wrists. “You got me all wet.”

Mikey nods even though the shower spray dousing them must have been William’s fault, though Mikey’s not sure if the increased pressure was intentional or not.

“I should take your clothes and make you wear the wet ones home.”

Mikey shivers at the thought of being surrounded by William’s smell, his clothes. He nods on instinct and William smiles slowly, pure heat in his eyes. He undresses and leaves his clothes in a sodden pile in front of Mikey.

Mikey dresses, struggling into wet boxer briefs and soaked denim. William’s shirt is just as soaked, clinging to Mikey’s skin when he puts it on. He shivers again and walks out of the shower into the locker room.

His clothes are gone, and William’s gone, but there’s a clean, folded towel on the bench. Mikey wraps it around his neck to keep his hair from dripping down the back of his shirt then walks onto the field. His shirt’s gone, but the blanket and the whiskey bottle are still there.

Mikey takes a shot then wraps the blanket around himself to fight the wind that picked up while they were inside. He turns the heat all the way up when he gets in the car, but he still shakes the entire ride home.

**

Mikey goes to the club a few nights later, his phone in his hip pocket so he can feel it in case William calls. His whole body itches and tingles as the hair is starting to grow back, and he has too much energy burning through his system. He’s restless, moving through the crowd, trying to find a place he feels comfortable, where he can stop feeling his body.

A hand grabs his wrist and a sharp thrill goes through him until he looks down and sees dark fingers wrapped around his wrist. He turns and smiles, telling Travie tug him against him.

“Mikeyway, you’ve been in hiding.”

“Maybe you just haven’t been looking.” He presses his face against Travie’s neck and inhales the scent of sweat and weed.

“Oh, I’ve been looking, baby boy.”

Mikey laughs, “Apparently in all the wrong places.”

“Oh, I see. You’re not going to tell me where you’ve been hiding, huh? Did you go and find yourself a sugar daddy?”

Mikey blushes, turning his head to put his forehead on Travie’s shoulder.

“Oh. Oh, baby boy. You did?”

“No. Not exactly.” 

Mikey tries to pull away, but Travie won’t let him.”Nope. Not getting away now. Confession time. Tell Father Travie.”

“I grew up Catholic. You know that just turns me on, right?”

“I’m hoping.” Travie turns so his arm is around Mikey’s waist, and guides him to the bar. “What are you drinking?”

“Are you buying?”

“You’re the one who’s roped himself a big spender.”

“I said not exactly. Buy me a beer.”

Travie orders two beers and hands one of the plastic cups to Mikey before leading him to a corner that’s not much quieter, but it is less crowded. “All right. Give it up.”

“There’s a guy.”

“Okay, and now that the obvious is out of the way...”

“Shut up.”

Travie takes a long swallow of his beer. “You’re avoiding my question. Do I need to worry about you?”

“No. No. It’s not...It’s not a bad thing.”

“And yet you’re being cagey.”

“It’s maybe problematic. He’s...um. Younger.”

“How _much_ younger?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure? I mean, he’s legal?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Travie’s eyebrows are up and Mikey focuses on Travie’s nose ring as it catches the light. 

“No. I know it sounds bad, but it’s not. He’s...” Mikey sighs and meets Travie’s eyes. “You know him.”

“I do?” He’s obviously surprised. “Pretty sure I don’t know any jailbait.”

“He’s _legal_.”

“Almost jailbait then.” Travie takes another drink then almost chokes. “Wait. _Beckett_?”

“Um. William?”

“Jesus Christ.” Travie shakes his head and laughs. “Oh, baby.”

“What? Why are you laughing? He said he’s legal. Oh, god. Tell me he’s legal.”

“Yeah. You’re safe there.” Travie stops laughing for a minute and then starts again. “Beckett. Jesus. I should have known.”

Mikey punches Travie in the arm. “Stop laughing and tell me what’s so goddamned funny.”

“You’re prime meat for him. I’m surprised it took him this long. That boy’s got a pushy streak a mile wide.”

“He’s very...”

“Bossy as shit.” Travie drains the rest of his beer. Mikey actually remembers his and takes his first drink, licking foam from his lip. “You might be in over your head.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s not the kind to fuck around.”

“And I am?” Mikey asks sharply.

“Let’s go outside.” Travie gestures to Mikey’s beer and Mikey takes another drink. Travie takes the cup and drains it. “Come on.”

Mikey gapes at him. “That was my beer.”

“Yup. Sure was.” Travie wraps his long fingers around Mikey’s wrist and pulls him to the door and into the parking lot. It’s much quieter as the door shuts behind them.

Mikey crosses his arms over his chest and scowls. “What? And you owe me a beer.”

“A third of a beer. You’re not into the hard shit.”

“So? Neither is he.”

“You sure about that? Because that’s not what I hear.”

“Well, I’m the one who he’s been doing things with, so I think I might actually be the expert.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I like him.” Travie shrugs. “He’s a nice kid, but he doesn’t always know his limits.”

“He knows mine,” Mikey snaps. “And he respects them. He doesn’t think about it before he says it, but he realizes it’s true. William’s never pushed too far, never once made Mikey feel like he couldn’t say no. “Who told you he doesn’t? Or have you slept with him?” He ignores the pang that hits him, telling himself that it doesn’t matter if William’s slept with Travie.

“Billyboy’s isn’t my thing.”

“So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve talked to people.”

“The wrong people.” Mikey crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you know anyone he’s actually been with? Because I watched him for a couple of months and he never went home with anyone.”

“Well, he’s got a reputation.”

“He’s not going to hurt me.”

“That’s what he does, Mikey.”

“No.” Mikey shakes his head adamantly, his voice surprisingly firm to his own ears. “He tells me what to do. He pushes my limits. He’s never hit me. Never hurt me.” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out, touching Travie’s arm. “Don’t get me wrong, Trav. I appreciate your concern.”

“You’re just not going to listen to me.” Travie shakes his head. “You need to talk to some people.”

“Name someone. Name one person who’s dated him, and I will.”

Travie starts to say something then stops, looking past Mikey. Mikey glances over his shoulder and sees William. His heart speeds up and he feels suddenly guilty for being out.”

“Bilvy.”

“Travie.” Mikey’s shoulders tighten at the tension in William’s voice. The smile William gives Travie is forced and his eyes are hard. “How’s the band?”

“Fine.” Travie nods toward the club door. “You should go have a listen.”

“That was the plan.” William glances at Mikey and nods. “Good seeing you.”

Mikey nods back, fighting the panic in his chest. “I’m going back inside. I mean, if you want to go in. Together.”

“I don’t want to interrupt your evening.” William’s voice is dry and toneless. Mikey can feel his breath shortening, feel anxiety clawing up his spine. “You two have fun.”

“No!” Mikey clears his throat as William glances at him, eyebrow raised at Mikey’s shout. “We’re not a ‘you two’. I’m just a me. And he’s a him. Not an us. Or a two.” Mikey moves away from Travie toward William. “I’d like to.”

William glances at Travie who shrugs. William’s smile is dangerous and tense, and the look he gives Mikey makes Mikey’s stomach clench.

“Please?”

William’s left shoulder lifts slightly. “If you want.”

Mikey follows closely and waits while William pays his cover. “I wasn’t doing anything with him.”

“I know. Or even if you were, you can see whomever you want. You’re not obligated to me.”

“But I am. I mean, if you want.” Mikey reaches out and grabs William’s hand. “Please.”

William glances down at Mikey’s hand and then up at him. Mikey fights the urge to let go, to ask forgiveness. “What did he tell you about me?”

“Lies,” Mikey answers without hesitation. “He said you’d hurt me. That you didn’t have limits. I told him it wasn’t true.” He presses his thumb to William’s pulse, feeling the steady beat of it. “I trust you.”

“Did he mention we used to date?”

“No. He said he didn’t...”

“Let me guess, he said he wasn’t into what I’m into, right?” William sighs. “What he means is that he’s into exactly what I’m into, and we both figured out pretty quick that I didn’t want to be on the receiving end.”

“He...oh.”

“Some of this comes naturally. The rest I learned from him.”

“I didn’t...”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Mikey tightens his grip on William’s wrist. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, Mikey.” William carefully disengages his hand from Mikey’s. “He’s good at what he does. Maybe he’ll suit you better. He seems to think he will.”

“I don’t want _him_. Please.” Mikey’s voice catches. “I want you.”

William looks at Mikey for a long moment then reaches out and traces his jawline. “I’m going to listen to the band. I’ll be in touch.”

Mikey nods. The fear fades with the gentleness of William’s touch. “Soon?” He knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn’t care.

William smiles and it’s natural like the ones from the night in the diner. “Soon enough.”

**

Mikey curses under his breath when he realizes the porch light is out. He fumbles through his keys, finding one for the apartment by touch. He has it almost all the way in the lock when a movement catches his eye. He turns to look, but he can’t move as someone’s body is pressed up against him, holding him against the door, a hand clamped over Mikey’s mouth. He can feel the scream in his throat.

“Mikey.”

Fear and adrenaline course roughly through Mikey’s veins and he opens his mouth to scream as best he can when he recognizes the voice, as it penetrates his emotions as William presses him harder against the door. Mikey’s still tense, but it’s a different kind of tension now, arousal and anticipation heating up the cold shock of fear.

“Look at you,” William purrs the words and Mikey swallows hard, the unvoiced scream nearly choking him. “Look so good. So perfect.”

The words are against the skin of Mikey’s throat and he shivers all over. He tilts his head, wanting William’s mouth, breath, teeth.

“Need to mess you up.”

Mikey’s cock jerks hard and he’s torn between thrusting forward against the door or pressing back against William. The sound he makes is muffled by William’s hand.

“You want to get messed up, don’t you?” William's free hand curves around Mikey’s waist and settles over his cock. Mikey thrusts forward, whimpering against William’s palm.

William pulls back, grabbing Mikey’s shoulder to pull him back and turn him. Mikey almost trips over his feet, but William’s there, shoving Mikey back against the door again. He pins him there, the web of his thumb against Mikey’s adam’s apple and his fingers curled around Mikey’s throat. Mikey keeps silent, forgetting how to breathe.

William tugs at Mikey’s tie, loosening the knot. When it’s hanging away from Mikey’s collar, William starts undoing buttons, opening Mikey’s shirt. He takes his time between each button, long fingers stroking Mikey’s chest.

“Better,” William murmurs softly. He stops when Mikey’s shirt is half undone. He watches Mikey’s face as he slides his hand inside the shirt, tracing a slow circle around Mikey’s nipple before pinching it hard between the nails of his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck!” Mikey gasps, jerking hard. The movement increases the pressure on his throat and he fights to swallow. William keeps pinching, only releasing him when Mikey’s shaking hard. Mikey feels like he’s going to break into a million pieces at William’s feet.

William brushes his fingers over the sore, sensitive skin, and Mikey sucks in a hot breath. It catches in his throat. “We’ve barely even started, Mikey. Are you going to be able to last?”

Mikey nods desperately. William leans in, his breath fanning over Mikey’s skin. A shiver runs through Mikey’s body and he moans softly.

William slides his hand from Mikey’s throat down to his groin, squeezing lightly before undoing Mikey’s slacks.

“We’re out...outside.”

William pinches Mikey’s nipple again and reaches into Mikey’s boxer-briefs, pushing them over Mikey’s cock and down. Cool air makes Mikey shiver again, and William squeezes him tighter. “Should I do this right here? Undress you out in the open?”

Mikey slumps back against the door, thrusting his hips forward. He tilts his head back, baring his throat.

“So easy.” William slides his hand to the head of Mikey’s cock, rubbing his palm over it. Pre-come sticks to William’s skin and his palm is wet when he strokes the length of Mikey’s dick.

“P-please. Please.” Mikey tries to keep his eyes open, not wanting to deny himself of the look on William’s face. It’s intense and heated, possessive, burning Mikey up from the inside. 

“That’s barely even begging,” William whispers in Mikey’s ear. “Surely you can do better than that.”

Mikey closes his eyes, trying to suck in air as William strokes his cock, squeezing firmly on the upstroke.

“P-please. Please. William. Oh g-god. Please. I need. Need it. Need you.” Mikey’s voice trembles. “Fuck. Need you.”

“Have you been good?” William’s voice is low and rough, and it makes Mikey shiver. “Done what I told you?”

Mikey groans as William stops stroking. His cock feels like it’s on fire, ready to explode in William’s grip. “Oh, g-god,” Mikey whimpers. “Oh god.”

William lowers his voice, his tone mocking. “That’s not an answer, Mikey.”

“Y-y-yes. Oh, god. Please.” He tries to thrust into William’s hand, but William's pressed against him, holding him so he can’t move. “Please.”

“Haven’t touched yourself?”

“No! No. No. Haven’t. Please.”

William rubs his thumb over the slit, pressing against it and parting Mikey’s skin, rubbing the ball of his thumb along the head of Mikey’s dick. He pushes until Mikey goes up on his toes, his whole body jerking, his knees threatening to give way. “Not even a little?”

“No.” It’s a sob, caught in Mikey’s throat. “No. Oh god. Please. Please. Anything. ‘m yours. Do anything. Just. God. Just please.”

William wipes an escaped tear off Mikey’s cheek with his thumb then sucks it clean. He uses his other to keep rubbing the slit. Mikey can’t stop shaking, can’t control himself.

“Please.” It’s barely a whisper, and it hurts to get the word out. William squeezes Mikey’s cock tightly then slides his other hand down to do the same to Mikey’s balls. The sob shudders out of Mikey this time and his head falls back hard against the door. He’s sensation, nothing more. William's.

“There,” William whispers. “That’s a good boy.”

Mikey’s cock jerks and he comes against William's thumb, spraying all over Mikey’s shirt and chest. His eyes roll back and his whole body slumps.

William reaches up and screws the porch light back into its socket. Mikey flinches at the sudden bright light. Glancing down to see what he looks like, he realizes he _is_ a mess, just like William promised. “N-n-neighbors.”

“You want them to see, don’t you? See what you look like right now.”

Mikey makes a noise at the back of his throat. His legs move on instinct, splaying further so his dick lays in the vee of his open slacks. He wonders if any of them are watching, turned on by him destroyed by William.

“I thought so.” William reaches past Mikey and finishes unlocking the door. “Inside now.”

Mikey stumbles, but makes it inside, shuffling when his slacks fall to his feet. William eases Mikey’s tie completely free of his shirt collar then finishes unbuttoning the shirt and lets it pool on the floor along with Mikey’s slacks.

“Shoes and socks.”

Mikey toes off his shoes and tugs his socks off, tossing them on top of the rest of his clothes. William hooks a finger in the waistband of Mikey’s boxer-briefs and pulls them down slightly until they pass Mikey’s thighs and fall off as well.

William reaches back to shut the door and Mikey’s knees give way slightly as he realizes the door was open as he stripped. His eyes follow William until he disappears behind Mikey. Mikey whimpers when he loses sight of him, but William comes around his other side and then in front of him.

He wraps his hand around Mikey’s tie just below the loosened not. Mikey’s breathing roughly, his eyes locked on William. “You want to see?”

Mikey jerks out a nod, the motion stopped by William suddenly tightening the tie. The nod fades to a moan and Mikey feels a small trickle of come slide down his thigh. 

William turns smoothly and lets his grip slide down to the bottom of the tie before he twists it in his hand and pulls, leading Mikey to the bathroom. Mikey follows obediently, unable to quiet the whimpers slipping past his lips. William snaps on the bathroom light and Mikey glances at the mirror.

The tie is pulled tight against his throat and there’s come drying on his skin. William’s fist is crushing the silk and all Mikey wants to do is sink to his knees and suck William down.

William turns and tugs the tie so that Mikey’s facing the mirror. William drags the tie around so the knot is at the nape of Mikey’s neck and the circle of fabric is tight against his adam’s apple. “Look at you.”

Mikey can’t look away. His whole body is flushed, especially his face. His eyes are dark, pupils blow, and as much as he sees his own reflection, his gaze keeps straying to William. He looks perfect, though there are a few dark spots on his t-shirt where Mikey’s come spurted against him, but the rest of him is pristine. Mikey feels even more messed up next to him. 

William twists the tie again until all Mikey can manage is a bare breathe of air. William's free hand slides against the dried come on Mikey’s stomach then up to his chest, his nail scraping Mikey’s still-sensitive nipple.

Mikey reaches out, hands gripping the counter to keep himself on his feet.

“Don’t move.” William releases the tie and steps out of the bathroom. Mikey watches William’s reflection as long as he can then he closes his eyes. Even though William’s just outside, it’s easier not to see the empty room.

“Good boy.” William strokes his fingers along Mikey’s spine. Mikey looks in the mirror, a warmth running through him when he sees William’s pleased expression. William’s fingers keep moving, two of them gliding over Mikey’s tailbone before sliding between the curves of Mikey’s ass until the tips of both fingers are pressing against Mikey’s opening.

“Should I work you open? Spread you wide? Can you take it?”

“Y-yes. Please.”

“That’s a good boy.” William moves his fingers and Mikey whimpers, half pleasure at the compliment and half disappointment at the loss of his touch. 

The click of the cap of the lube makes Mikey’s breath hitch, and he watches William in the mirror as he pours it into his hand and rubs his fingers through the slick liquid. William rubs them together to warm the lube and then looks at Mikey.

“How many have you taken?” William presses his fingers against Mikey’s hole again, rubbing small circles that make Mikey’s muscles clench.

“Three. Three. I think.”

“You think?”

“Not...I think. Not sure. Please.”

“You have to relax. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Nodding frantically, Mikey tries to take a deep breath, choking on the inhale. William laughs softly, warmly as he moves his fingers away and presses a kiss to Mikey’s shoulder. He steps closer so Mikey’s back is pressed against him.

“Breathe with me. Slow and easy.”

Mikey nods and closes his eyes, trying to match his breathing to William’s. William’s body is warm and close. Mikey leans back slightly, letting his head fall on William’s shoulder. 

“That’s my boy. So good.” He nuzzles Mikey’s throat, his breath teasing at Mikey’s ear. “Relax.”

Mikey tilts his head to expose more of his neck. He falls into the same rhythm, their chests rising and falling simultaneously. 

“Mmm. Lovely.” William shifts slightly and slides the tip of his slick fingers over Mikey’s hip. “Don’t stop breathing. Just like this.”

Mikey nods again, counting to three between each inhale and exhale. William lets his fingers slide over one side of Mikey’s ass and then along the crack down to his hole again. Mikey’s breath hitches and William kisses the back of his neck.

“Shh. I’ve got you. You’re doing so well. So proud of you.”

Mikey mewls softly, a warm sound from his chest. He tightens his grip on the counter and spreads his legs further apart.

“That’s right. So good, Mikey.” William circles the hole then presses a finger against it, pushing in just enough to make Mikey gasp. William presses in further, and Mikey can feel William’s knuckles as they spread the muscle. “Beautiful.”

William curves his finger and Mikey rises up on his toes. “G-god.”

“Mmm.” William pulls his finger back to the first knuckle. Mikey swallows hard, trying to remember to breathe. One of his breaths turns to a gasp as he feels the cold trickle of lube against his skin and William’s fingers. William kisses the nape of Mikey’s neck again and when Mikey opens his eyes, William is watching him in the mirror.

The first finger slides in and nearly out again and then Mikey feels the burn of stretch as William adds another finger. William’s other hand slides up Mikey’s spine to his neck, pressing him down, pushing his face closer to the mirror. Mikey bends easily, willingly. He releases the edge of the counter and presses his palms against the mirror. “Please.”

“Please what?” William’s voice hints at a laugh and Mikey bows his head, unsure of what to ask for or how to say it if he knew. “Please finger you?” William curves his fingers, the pads of his fingers rubbing small circles. “Fuck you?” He leans in and Mikey can feel the pressure of William’s body against his. He opens his eyes and William’s staring right at him. “Fist you?”

Mikey moans and presses back against William’s fingers, feeling the pressure of William’s knuckles against his ass. “Fuck. Yes. Please.”

William’s smile in the mirror makes Mikey’s cock jerk against the cool counter top. The shock of temperature makes his dick soften slightly, but the feel of lube and William’s third finger spreading him, scissoring inside him brings it back full force. He keeps watching as best he can, but eventually sweat drops his bangs into his eyes and he closes them, overwhelmed. 

The most he can manage is a soft whispered ‘please’ when William pulls his fingers free, the tips just resting against Mikey’s hole. He takes a deep breath and then he feels the pressure, the stretch, the burn as William eases his hand inside, fingers and thumb filling Mikey until he feels like it’s forced all the air from his lungs.

It’s almost too much right from the start, but William thrusts slowly in and out, spreading his fingers at different times, burning Mikey up from the inside. William’s free rests on Mikey’s ass, alternately squeezing, scratching and rubbing. Mikey pants roughly as his hands flex and fist, grasping at air as everything ratchets up. He rises onto his toes, trying to get more, get William deeper inside him. 

“You should see yourself, Mikey.” William’s voice is a low purr, full of promise and heat. “Your mouth is wet and slick like you’ve been sucking cock. Your body is flushed red. You’re covered in sweat, come leaking out of your dick. Your ass...your ass is spread so wide for me. Take me like you were made for me.”

“Y-yes.” Mikey licks his lips and tries to swallow, to wet his throat. It doesn’t work, so he nods desperately. He wants more, wants William’s dick inside him. He keeps nodding as William reaches down and squeezes Mikey’s cock. Mikey gasps thickly and then he’s coming all over the cabinet, drips of it on his thighs and feet. 

Mikey sags against the counter, clenching around William’s wrist. William laughs quietly then eases free of Mikey, leaning in and rubbing the length of his dick against Mikey’s ass instead. Mikey is still slicked up, and William slides against him. Mikey tries to push up, wanting William inside him, but his legs wobble and he has to lean on the counter for support.

“Not tonight.” William traces the head of his dick around Mikey’s hole in a slow, deliberate circle. “Not yet.”

“Yet?” Mikey knows he’s practically begging, unable to keep the need out of his voice. 

“Not yet.” William pulls back and wraps his hand around his dick, stroking it. As he reaches the head, Mikey can feel William’s fist against his ass and he can’t stay still, thrusting back against the pressure. William laughs softly. “Want it so badly, don’t you?”

“Yes. Please. Yes.” Mikey stares at William in the mirror, his pupils blown wide in his reflection. “Please.”

“No.” William shifts back more and Mikey moans at the loss of his body heat, his support. But Mikey can still see William, stroking his cock, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted as he gets closer. Mikey’s mouth opens as he struggles to breathe, and then he feels the heat of William’s orgasm bathe his ass and back. 

Mikey’s knees actually give out and he sinks down onto the floor, almost slamming his chin into the counter top. William’s still holding Mikey’s eyes in the mirror. He leans over Mikey and turns on the tap, steam quickly rising from the hot water. William washes his hands thoroughly and then dries them before reaching down and helping Mikey to his feet.

“Bed now.”

Mikey doesn’t protest, just nods and leans against William, stumbling alongside him to the bedroom and letting him guide him onto the bed. Mikey’s eyes close immediately and he listens to William move, moans when he feels the warm washcloth on his skin. William wipes down Mikey’s back and ass then turns him over to wipe away the few spots where Mikey’s come landed on his skin. 

“Covers?”

Mikey yawns and nods all at once. His pillow is too far away to reach, and the act of crawling up to it is beyond him. William grabs it and tucks it under Mikey’s head and then grabs a blanket from the end of the bed and drapes it over Mikey.

“Stay?”

“Sleep.” Mikey’s half there already, but he keeps listening for William’s steps. He hears him go from the bathroom and then back, and then he senses the shift in the air and he’s fairly certain William has settled in the chair against the wall.

“G’night,” Mikey slurs, smiling as he drifts off, feeling safe.

**

Mikey stirs and blinks in the darkness. William is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking Mikey over. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” Mikey shifts onto his back and looks up at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d come and see me. Not after the club the other night.”

“I wasn’t sure either to be honest.” William traces Mikey’s collarbone. 

“But you did.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

William smiles slightly. “Are you complaining?”

“No! No. Definitely not. I just...”

“I’m not sure why he told you what he did. As far as I knew we’d parted on good terms. Have you and he...”

“No. I mean, we’ve flirted at the clubs and stuff, but we’ve never done anything outside of them. No dates or sex or anything. Just friends.”

“I wondered if it was jealousy.” William frowns slightly and Mikey watches him, trying not to panic at William’s obvious unhappiness. “I mean, that would make sense for him to warn you off.” He digs his nail into Mikey’s skin, still tracing the collarbone, only now leaving a red line indenting the skin. 

“Maybe he’s jealous of you. I mean, because of you. I mean, he wants you back.”

“No. It’s definitely not that.”

Mikey tries not to sigh with relief, but from the quirk of William’s lips, he thinks he probably failed. “Is that why you came back? To figure out why?”

“No.” William exhales and closes his eyes for a moment. Mikey stares at him, memorizing him. “I was angry. That he’d talked to you. That you’d listened to him. That you’d believe him without me having a chance to speak for myself. For having to defend myself. I wanted to...hurt you, I think. Or hurt myself. Cut myself on your sharp edges.”

“So you were going to...”

“No. No. Not that. Never that.” William scratches his fingers down Mikey’s chest, teasing his nipple again. Mikey sucks in a breath and feels his cock twitch. “I was going to yell at you. Be angry. Tell you off. Tell you that I was done. But then I was waiting and I started thinking.”

“About?” Mikey’s skin is tingling, though he can’t pinpoint the feeling behind it. 

“The way you surrender.”

The tingle becomes a shiver and Mikey swallows hard. “What...what about it?”

“You give in so completely. I knew if you reacted, if you didn’t say no, you really wanted it. You don’t do half-measures, do you?”

“Not...not in this. I’m not good at just going halfway.”

“Good.” William smiles and taps Mikey on the chest. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

“You could stay.” Mikey sits up in the bed, letting the blanket fall to his waist. “I’d like it.”

“Go to sleep, Mikey.”

Mike nods and settles back under the covers, but he doesn’t close his eyes until he hears the front door shut, just in case William comes back into the bedroom. 

**

“He home-invaded you!” Pete cackles with glee. “You and your apartment. Did you freak out? Shit, I’d freak out.”

“I freaked out.” Mikey takes a bit of his pizza. “Then I realized it was him and almost passed out because my dick got so hard so fast.”

Pete reaches for another slice of pizza and nearly slips off the couch. “I need to get laid.”

“We could go out. Find you a man.” Mikey tucks his feet under him on the couch. “Tell me what you look for in a guy.”

“A big dick.”

“You’re truly a gentleman and a scholar, Pete.”

“I work in the music business. I used to just require that they shower at least once a month.”

“I’m glad you’ve raised your standards.”

“Absolutely. Now I’m refined and shit.”

Mikey laughs and picks melted cheese from the pizza crust. “We should find someone for you though, really. Someone who showers, has a big dick, and is nice.”

“Nice totally isn’t one of my requirements. I’d _never_ get laid if I made them have to be nice.”

“It’s one of _my_ requirements for guys who fuck my best friend.” 

“Your dude bosses you around.”

“ _Nicely_.”

“Right.” Pete nods, his lips pressed together and his brow furrowed, but Mikey can tell that he’s trying not to laugh. “And he totally nicely jumped you outside your apartment and nearly gave you a heart attack.”

“He fisted me. _Really_ nicely.”

“You’re just taunting me now. I know it. That is so uncool.”

“Whatever. If I didn’t give you shit you’d think I’d started hating you.”

“Well, yeah.” Pete takes a bite and pulls the pizza away, letting the cheese stretch. It snaps and he gets sauce on his nose. “That’s not the point.”

Mikey rests his head against the back of the couch with a sigh. “Did I tell you Travie is William’s ex?”

Pete coughs around his pizza and Mikey sits up to slap him hard on the back. “What?” He asks hoarsely.

“He used to date Travie a while ago. He said it was on good terms, but I don’t think it ended well.”

“Shit. Your boy gets around.” 

“I don’t think one ex counts as getting around. I mean, if it does, what does that make us?”

“Hmm. Good point.” Pete wipes the sauce off his nose with his thumb and then sucks it off. “Maybe whores?”

“Speak for yourself,” Mikey laughs. “I’m as pure as the new-fallen snow.”

“Yeah. In Chernobyl maybe.”

Mikey kicks out with his foot, pushing on Pete’s thigh. “Asshole.”

Pete blows him a kiss. “Forget going out and big dicks. Let’s stay in and watch _Die Hard_.”

“Bruce Willis totally has a big dick.”

“So _Fifth Element_ is out too. Indiana Jones?”

“Harrison Ford.”

“Shit. Right. _Jaws_?”

“Do sharks have dicks? Because if they do, Bruce the shark totally has a big one.”

“I don’t know. Shark dicks are probably a thing, or there wouldn’t be baby sharks. Zombies don’t have dicks though. Let’s watch some zombies.”

“But not that weird porno you downloaded.”

“I didn’t think the zombies would actually _eat_ their dicks. I mean, who would want to see that?”

“You watched the whole thing!” 

“Not because it turned me on! It was like a sociological experiment.”

“On yourself?”

“Shut up and put a movie in, dickhead.”

Mikey gets off the couch and puts in _Night of the Living Dead_ then comes back, lying on the couch with his head in Pete’s lap. “This is nice.”

“Mm.” Pete strokes Mikey’s hair, fingers carding through it. “You’d rather William was here making you bark like a dog or something.”

“No. I want to be here with you.” Mikey glances up at Pete. “Though you could just be jealous because William does have a big dick.”

Pete sticks out his tongue at Mikey, making him smile. “I could have had that dick. I gave it to you.”

“Dream on.” Mikey reaches up and pokes Pete’s nose. “You’re too pissy to be bossed around. You’d start mouthing off the minute he told you what to do.” 

“No I wouldn’t!” Pete tries to look offended, but he just ends up laughing at his expression. “Not _right_ away. Like, I’d be good for a few minutes.”

Mikey quirks his mouth up and turns back to the TV. “Liar.”

**

Work is busier than normal, and Mikey keeps losing track of time. He’s missed two dinners with Pete because he keeps forgetting he has to eat and keeps failing to leave his office before he’s supposed to be asleep.

He tells Pete that he’s too busy to think, but he still spends valuable sleeping time jerking off to thoughts of William. His body hair has mostly grown back, and he’s finally stopped squirming in his seat to try to combat the itching. 

William hasn’t called, which is probably for the best since Mikey doesn’t have time to breathe, much less lose himself in William. Of course, Mikey worries because he hasn’t called, so he’s thankful he’s got work to keep his mind off of it. Or he can pretend it manages to do that. 

He’s spent most of the day buried in a report, the end of the fiscal year dumping piles of paper on his desk. He’s on the last major one, and he’s halfway through it. The phone rings and he doesn’t look, just grabs it and hooks it between his ear and shoulder. “Way.”

“Hello, Mikey.”

Mikey freezes and nearly drops the phone. His red pen stays on the paper and the color bleeds through them. “W-william. Hello. Hi.”

“I haven’t been able to reach you and having seen you at the clubs. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, but I ran into Pete and he gave me your work number. He said you were working too hard and needed a break.”

“Work. Yes. I mean, I’ve been working. It’s the end of our fiscal year and...”

“Do you have your own office?”

“Yeah. Well, no. I have a cubicle in the corner which is kind of like an office. It’s quiet.”

“Can anyone see you?”

“Not...” Mikey’s mind is racing, his heart pounding and the blood loud in his ears. William sounds like sin, and Mikey wants it. Wants him. “I don’t think so. No. Not that I know.”

“You’re at your desk?”

Mikey realizes that his pen has ruined the page he’s on, so he moves it. “Yes. Um. I got red ink all of my report. So. I’ll. Um. I’ll be here for a while. Have to reprint it and start this part over.” He realizes he’s rambling and clears his throat. “Um, yes. At my desk.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Very good.”

Mikey blushes from the heat in William’s voice and the feeling that he’s managed to please him without doing anything. “I don’t...I mean. I don’t understand. It’s good?”

“For what I have in mind.”

“What you...” Mikey clears his throat again and drops his voice. “What do you have in mind?”

William laughs softly, his own deepened and warm. “What do you think I have in mind?”

“I...”

“What are you wearing today, Mikey?”

“S-slacks. A button-down shirt. A...a tie.”

“And a belt?”

Mikey swallows hard and presses his hand against his dick, feeling it swelling. “Yes.”

“Unbuckle it.”

“Un...oh.” Mikey pushes harder against his cock. “I’m...I’m at work.”

“I know.”

“Oh. Right. Um...right.” Mikey looks out of his cubicle. No one is outside and he lets out a sigh of relief. The thought of not being able to say yes to William makes his heart hammer uncomfortably. He exhales and undoes the buckle of his belt. It takes a few more tries to work the leather free of the metal clasp with his shaking hands.

“Very good.” William’s voice makes Mikey shiver, his blood burning through his veins.

“Thank you. Sir.”

“Sir.” William hums, sounding pleased. “Open your slacks.”

Mikey shivers again, biting his lower lip hard. He undoes the button and the zipper, unable to keep from gasping as his cock twitches against his boxer briefs.

“Are you hard for me, Mikey?”

“Yes. Yes.” He tries to modulate his voice so anyone who can hear him won’t know what he’s doing. Won’t suspect. “Yes. Yes, sir. Mr...Mr. Beckett.”

William takes a surprised breath and then laughs, and it pours over Mikey like liquid. “Oh. it’s like that, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Rub yourself, Mikey.”

Mikey whimpers and does as he’s told, rubbing the palm of his hand over his boxer briefs, pressing on his cock.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“Good. Um. Things...things are going really well.”

“You’re hard for me? Dick full and thick?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take it in your hand. Wrap your fingers around your cock. Hard and tight, Mikey. Just like I would do it.”

“Wish it was you.”

“Is that so? You want my hand on you? Want me to jerk you? Squeeze your balls while I stroke your dick?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe if I was there under your desk, I’d take you in my mouth.”

Mikey bites the heel of his free hand and groans against his skin. He leans back in his chair, pulling his dick out and wrapping his hand around it. He can feel his orgasm already threatening. “Sir...”

“Would you come in my mouth? Or could you hold back? Would my mouth on you be too much?”

“Too much. Want...want to do that, sir. To you. For you.” Mikey’s voice is rough, thick in his throat. He can remember the feel of William’s come, the taste. He glances at his cock, swollen and flushed, the head appearing and disappearing as he moves his fist, working himself hard and fast.

“Is that what you want? You want to suck me down? Or should I come all over that pretty face of yours? Watch my come drip from your lips, watch you blink it out of your eyes?”

“O-oh.” Mikey barely manages to bite back the sound. His cock jerks and he tightens his grip and tries to swallow. He closes his eyes and pictures it, William coming, the hot splash on his face, the mess he’d be.

“What if I told you to put me on speaker phone?” William’s voice is conversational now, and Mikey waits to him to actually ask. “Would you? What if someone heard?”

“God,” Mikey gasps.

“Let your co-workers know what you like? That you belong to me?”

“I...Mikey can’t manage more than that. He wants to come, but he clenches all of his muscles to hold back.

“Do you want that? Want them to know I own you?”

He loses control then, coming all over his hand. It splatters onto his slacks as well as the underside of his desk. He bites his lip to stay quiet, teeth hard enough that he tastes blood.

William’s quiet, though Mikey can hear the catch of his breath. It doesn’t occur to Mikey until that moment that William might be jerking off too. “Belong to you,” Mikey whispers tentatively, not sure if he’s supposed to talk. “Yours. Only yours.”

William hums thickly and Mikey squeezes his dick even though he’s spent. He wants to come again, wants to keep going for William.

“Mikey?”

Mikey jerks, smacking his knee against his desk. His boss is standing in the door of his cubicle. “I...Excuse me, Mr. Beckett. Can you hold for a moment?” Mikey fumbles with the phone and doesn’t actually hit the hold button, so he can still hear the sound of William’s rough breathing. “D-did you need me, Jason?”

“How’s the Henderson report coming?”

Mikey looks down at the papers on his desk. He’s going to be at work all night. “First thing in the morning.”

“Good.” He slaps the cubicle wall and leaves. 

Mikey scrambles for the receiver and picks it up. “Sir? William?”

It’s quiet and Mikey’s afraid William’s gone. His cock jerks when William speaks, and his heart starts to pound. “You owe me for that one, Mikey.”

“Yes, sir.” Mikey waits for William to hang up before he does. He calls for another copy of the report and puts his head on his desk, not sure he can focus on anything other than when and how William plans to collect.

**

Mikey opens the door, expecting Pete, and stops moving. His eyes widen. “Gerard?”

“Surprise.”

Mikey nods. “Very. Surprised, I mean. You’re here. And this is not New York.”

“Definitely not New York. Can I come in?”

“Oh. Yes. God, yes.” He pulls Gerard into a hug, tugging him into the apartment. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here. Why are you here?”

“I have a show in Cincinnati. And since it’s close, I thought I’d fly in here.”

“It’s not really close, Gerard.”

“It’s closer. I think.”

“It doesn’t matter. Come in.” Mikey heads out of the foyer, looking back over his shoulder at Gerard. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“It’s a sucky surprise when I tell you. I mean, obviously I usually do, but I did good this time. I’ve also been in a state of panic about this show and xanaxed out my eyeballs on flights all over the country, so I might have thought I did tell you.” Gerard kicks off his shoes and climbs onto one of the stools in front of the counter. “Can I have a drink?”

“I don’t have much.”

“Water’s good. Or coffee. You always have coffee.”

“I’ll make a fresh pot.” Mikey goes into the kitchen and preps the coffee maker. “I can’t believe you’re here. You never come out here.”

“Well, I hadn’t heard from you for a while.”

“You haven’t called either.”

“I’ve had an excuse.” Gerard puts his finger on a piece of mail and spins it around on the counter. “This show has been a bitch to put together and deal with. You think one diva’s bad, you should try working with five of them.”

“Six if you count yourself?”

“I am not a diva. I’m a perfectionist.”

“Who needs everything his own way.” 

Gerard sticks his tongue out and looks at Mikey through his lashes. “But you haven’t called.”

“It’s the end of the fiscal year.”

“It’s been the end of the fiscal year seven times since you started working that job and never once have you gone this long without calling me. So talk.”

Mikey pours water into the machine and then turns it on, making sure the pot is seated correctly so he doesn’t have to look at Gerard. “There’s a guy.”

“Shit. Now I owe Frank twenty bucks.”

“You’re _betting_ on me?”

“Yes, and if you were a better brother, you would have helped me win.” Gerard pushes the mail out of the way and rests his elbows on the counter, his chin on the heels of his hands. “Talk.”

“Wait, what did you bet?”

“That you’d been kidnapped by space pirates.”

“You thought I was in a Marvel comic?”

“Just because it happened to Cyclops doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen to you.” Gerard waves the comment aside and then replaces his chin. “Who is he?”

“He’s...He’s just a guy. I met him at the club and we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

“So why am I just now hearing about him?”

“I thought I told you about him before.”

“No. I’d remember a guy. You never talk about guys. You talk about dancing and hanging out with Pete and games and comics and movies and stuff. But you never talk about guys, so you haven’t mentioned him.”

“I tell you about guys I date.”

“No, you don’t. You occasionally tell Frank, which if you told him about this and he used insider information, I’m going to punch him in the balls, but you never tell me because it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’ve never been uncomfortable with you.” Mikey gets two cups out of the cupboard. 

“You get uncomfortable when I ask about guys you’re dating. You get all weird and shy and distant. Like you’re afraid I’ll be ashamed of you or upset with you or something. Because who you have sex with doesn’t matter more than the fact that you’re my brother and I love you.”

Mikey pours the coffee and ducks his head, feeling the blush burning his cheeks. “I love you too, Gee.”

“So. Tell me about him.”

“He’s just...he’s a guy. That I like.”

“And?”

“And nothing. We’re sort of seeing each other. Casually. I’m not marrying him or anything.” Mikey’s careful not to let himself even think about something with any kind of permanence when it comes to William. “I mean, we’re not even dating-dating. We just see each other sometimes.”

“But he’s why you haven’t called me.”

“Not...no. I mean, it _is_ the end of the fiscal year, which means I’ve been buried in work too. And William...”

“William.” Gerard takes out a notebook and writes the name down. “Excellent. One piece of information. ONE!”

“Please don’t do The Count from Sesame Street, Gerard.”

“Then _tell_ me about him. I need to know details about the guy banging my brother. I assume you’re banging. Do people say banging anymore?”

“Pete does, but I don’t think he should be your role model.” Mikey takes his coffee and sits down next to Gerard. “I like him. I think he likes me.”

“Of course he likes you. If he didn’t like you, he’d be an idiot. And you don’t date idiots.”

Mikey leans against Gerard’s shoulder. “He’s a dom? I guess that’s the word for it. I don’t...I didn’t even know that I wanted that until suddenly he was telling me what to do and what not to do and I think about him all the time.”

“Wait, he’s a what?”

“He bosses me around. Not like in a mean way. Not like in a ‘clean my house or I’ll beat you’ sort of way. Just in a casual way. He makes it seem casual, but it’s not. It’s the kind of thing that makes my brain melt.”

“Huh. You’ve always liked bossy people. You like me.”

“Please don’t compare the guy I have sex with you, Gee.”

“If I weren’t your brother, you’d totally bang me.” Gerard sips his coffee and sighs. “But then you wouldn’t be my brother, and that’d be sad.”

“It would.”

“Would I like him?”

Mikey thinks for a minute and then nods, unable to keep from smiling. “Yeah. I think you would.”

“And he knows I’ll eviscerate him if he hurts you? I mean, in the non-sexually-pleasing-to-you way.”

“Please stop. No more talk about me and sex.” Mikey takes a drink of his coffee. “Tell me about who you’re banging.”

“Oh. Absolutely. We need to be comfortable for this. Let’s move to the couch.”

**

Pete looks Mikey over critically then sits on the edge of the bed. It’s been two weeks since Gerard left, and Pete’s been out of town as well. William hasn’t. “What’d he do to you?”

“Still doing.” Mikey shifts and his eyes close of their own volition. “He found my box of toys.”

“Oh.” Mikey can almost hear Pete’s eyes widening. “Which one?”

“Remember the one you bought me for my birthday as a gag gift?”

“Holy shit.”

“He spent three hours prepping me. Torturing me.” Mikey shifts again and can’t help moaning.

“Best night ever?”

Mikey whimpers and nods. He can’t imagine what he looks like to Pete. All he can see is the red flush of his dick that he thinks has been hard for hours. Possibly days. “He’s got these _fingers_. And his hands are lethal. I’m not sure if I’m in love with him or dead.”

Pete nods as well and then grabs Mikey’s wrist. “Wait, what?”

Mikey can feel the additional heat of a blush burning through his already flushed body. “Nothing. It’s the dildo talking.”

“Dude. Talking dildos. We could patent that shit. Get guest voices.”

Mikey laughs then moans, which brings Pete back to Mikey and the situation instead of keeping him distracted. “Are you really in love with him?”

“I barely _know_ him, Pete. It’s not like we’re having heart to hearts. It’s him doing a variety of things to me to make me come hard enough to black out. Or not come. And still black out from blood loss.”

“Oh. Yeah. Hm.” Pete stretches out on the bed then turns on his side, poking Mikey’s dick with a finger.

“God, don’t do that!” Mikey curls in on himself instinctively, which sends a bolt of pain and pleasure shooting through him. “F-fuck.”

“Sorry?”

“I’ve had a cock ring on and a dildo inside me since last night, Pete. It _hurts_.”

“In a good way?”

“So good.” Mikey whimpers again. “So fucking good. He got me so worked up so many times. It’s just...it’s like he looks in my brain and knows everything. What I want. What I need.”

“Hence the love. And the talking dildo.”

“Yeah. Hence.”

“So what happens now?”

“He’s coming by around five.”

“And?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“So you’re turned on. And, like, scared?”

“Not scared. Desperately hoping he’ll take this thing out soon. And kind of hoping he’ll fuck me with it first.”

“You want it to _move_?”

“I don’t know.” Mike puts his head on Pete’s shoulder, talking against his t-shirt. “I’m just really lost in this guy.”

“Good lost?”

Pete’s voice is concerned, but Mikey manages to find Pete’s hand with his and squeezes. “Yeah.”

“Good. We should take him out to the diner again. Or somewhere fancier.”

“What? Why?”

“So you can get to know him. Really be in love with him.” Pete shrugs, careful not to dislodge Mikey’s head. “You want that, right?”

“I...”

“Yeah. Thought so.” Pete turns his head. “Have you slept at all?”

“Not really.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“For what?”

“You never know.”

**

“Well, well.” 

Mikey blinks slowly, his brain taking a few moments to process. He starts to say something just as he realizes William’s standing at the end of the bed. “Oh!” He starts to move, but between Pete’s weight on top of him and the dildo buried inside him, he can’t manage it. “Oh. I...”

“Were you naughty, Mikey?”

Mikey shivers at William’s voice, at the promise of reward or repercussion. “N-no. No.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. You don’t sound terribly convincing.”

“Swear. Never lie to you.” He shoves Pete off of him and sits up, gasping as the toy moves inside him. His voice cracks, and he looks at William desperately. “Please.”

William glances at Pete and Mikey turns his gaze to him too. Pete’s still half asleep, so it takes a few minutes before he realizes they’re looking at him, and that they want something from him. “Oh. Right. You want me to...right.” He slips off the bed and heads toward the door. “I should go out. Out of the room. Yes.” He looks back at Mikey and gives him a thumbs up signal. William turns his head and catches him, and Pete ducks out, his face bright red.

“Hands and knees, Mikey.”

Mikey struggles into position, whimpering with every movement. His elbows shake but they manage to support him. William gets the lube from Mikey’s nightstand and pours some on two of his fingers. He traces the base of the plug, slicking it up all around Mikey’s hole. His skin is sensitive, burning like William’s branding him. 

“Oh god. Oh god.” Mikey drops his head, sensation jolting through him. It’s too much, every nerve zinging. “Ple-please. Please, William, I c-cant...”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I...I ca-can’t. It’s too much. Please. God, pelase.”

“Mikey.”

He knows he should tell William to stop, should say the word, but he doesn’t. He wants to take this, can take it, even though everything is on fire inside him. He shakes his head and a tear creeps down his cheek. “No. No. Please.”

William makes a low sound in his throat and then eases the toy out. Mikey’s body turns to mush, muscles giving out, giving up. He falls down to the mattress, too far past arousal now for his dick to be hard.

“Shh. It’s all right.” Mikey feels the bed shift as William sits beside him. “You’re all right.” His fingers stroke through Mikey’s hair and down to the base of his neck. “You did so well.”

“Stopped.” It takes several tries for Mikey to actually get the word out.

“You weren’t going to.” William shakes his head, giving Mikey a knowing look. “You were at the edge and you weren’t going to stop, were you?”

“Want. Wanted.” He turns his head and presses his face against William’s thigh.

“I don’t want you actually hurt, Mikey. I need to know I can trust you to stop.”

“Don’t want to stop. Want you.”

William sighs and tugs at Mikey’s hair. Mikey whimpers, his senses tangled and confused. “Lie here.” William gets off the bed, and Mikey shifts into the warm impression he leaves behind. He hears water running and vaguely remembers what it’s for. William comes back and Mikey looks up at him

The cloth is cool on Mikey’s skin, wiping away dried sweat. Shivering, Mikey presses against William’s hand. Eventually William eases Mikey onto his back, moving him slowly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Everything.” Mikey’s voice rises at the end of the word, but it’s not a question.

“You’re definitely not up for everything.”

“Any. Anything. Please.”

William’s gaze rakes down Mikey’s body. He reaches over and rubs his thumb against the cock ring before standing up. Before Mikey can protest, William starts undressing, tugging off his t-shirt first. Mikey exhales roughly, not looking away. William’s thin but strong, and his legs go on forever, his dick erect and thick.

“Please.”

“Hush,” William puts one foot on the bed then steps up with the other foot so that he’s standing on the mattress. He walks over Mikey then sinks down onto his knees, weight settled on Mikey’s chest.

Mikey stares up at William hungrily. He moves his hands to William’s thighs, rubbing the taut muscles with the palms of his hands. He wants to beg William for something, though he’s not sure what he wants beyond everything William has to give.

“All of that and you don’t want to be done, hmm?” William traces a finger along Mikey’s jaw and then over his lips. Mikey opens his mouth, moaning a little as William slides two fingers inside. He presses on Mikey’s tongue and Mikey fights the impulse to swallow, to gag. “You want more. Always want more, don’t you?”

Mikey nods and sucks on William’s fingers, taking them deep. Mikey can’t describe the taste of his skin, only that his head swims like he’s drunk or drugged when he’s near it. William pulls his fingers free with a pop and Mikey can feel the spit snap back onto his lip.

William shifts up onto his knees and grabs the top of the headboard with one hand, guiding his cock with the other, rubbing the head against Mikey’s lips. “Too much for you for me to fuck your ass right now. But this. This pretty mouth. I could definitely fuck that.”

Mikey opens his mouth wide, his jaw popping, his tongue pressed to the inside of his lower lip. William laughs and rubs the head on Mikey’s tongue, leaving the taste of come in its wake. Mikey tries to open wider, but William ignores him and keeps teasing him with his cock. Mikey makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and William laughs. It’s rough just like his breathing, and Mikey knows somewhere in his head that he should be hard, turned on, coming all across William’s lower back. Instead there’s a hollow ache at the base of his cock.

William shifts his hips and then his dick is in Mikey’s mouth,, pushing deep. Mikey fights it for a moment and then makes himself relax, closing his eyes and his body to everything except the feel of William inside him. 

The headboard squeaks with every thrust of William’s dick and Mikey tilts his head for a better angle. He’s sucking, getting spit at the base of William’s cock against his hand as he holds himself, his hand hitting Mikey’s mouth with every stroke. 

Mikey’s lips feel swollen and rubbery, too thick for his face as William keeps fucking his mouth. He curls his fingers, digging his nails into the back of William’s thighs when he tries to pull him closer. William is panting now, groaning as he gets close. Mikey wants to suck him down, wants to taste him again, but suddenly William’s dick is gone from his mouth and he feels empty inside for the few moments before William’s come splashes over Mikey’s face, hot and thick in his eyelashes, dripping down his cheeks. 

Mikey keeps his mouth open to make breathing easier, leaving it open even when William eases his weight off and drops to the bed beside Mikey. “Next time you’ll say no when you mean no, won’t you?”

He nods for a few moments before he can make his mouth work. “Yes, sir.”

William finds the cloth he’d used to clean Mikey up previously and carefully wipes his face clean. “You should sleep.”

“You could stay.” He says it softly, worried that William will take it wrong. Or badly. Or ignore it. Or say yes. “I mean...”

“I could.” He keeps watching Mikey, but his face doesn’t give anything away. Mikey’s torn between begging for an answer and throwing up. “You’d like that.”

“Yes. I just...yes.” It’s not a question, but Mikey answers anyway. “I would.”

William nods and traces Mikey’s jaw. Mikey can feel the scratch of his stubble as William’s finger rasps against it. “I don’t like coffee. Do you have tea?”

Mikey searches his memory. He might have tea? He might have thought it was enough like coffee to try it one time only to find out he was horribly wrong. “Yes?”

“Scoot over.”

**

Two weeks pass and Mikey doesn’t hear from William, and he’s ready to crawl out of his skin. He’s fairly certain William spending the night was him humoring Mikey, and he’s completely misread the situation, thinking there were clues that William was interested in him at all for more than sex. 

Which is fine. He’s fine with it. 

Except how he’s antsy and angry and not sleeping. 

He jumps every time his phone rings, every time it pings with a text. He’s about to block Gerard and Pete so his phone won’t make a sound unless it’s William, but he’s sure that will make things even worse. The last thing he needs is them teaming up to make sure Mikey’s okay.

He hesitates outside his apartment door, telling himself to stop moping at home, to hit the clubs and get rid of some of the excess energy. Instead he walks inside and locks the door, wondering if he can sleep so he doesn’t have to count the end of another week of excruciatingly long days and start counting the next. 

He goes into the living room and stops, his eyebrows shooting up. Pete’s sitting in the arm chair and he looks guiltier than Mikey’s ever seen him. Even more distracting and possibly alarming is the fact that William’s there as well, sitting on the couch, and Mikey has a hot flash of pleasure that he’s _there_ and how good he looks on his couch, in his apartment. In his life. He tries to shake those thoughts out of his head and frowns at Pete. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

“You look guilty.”

“No I don’t.”

“You _sound_ guilty. What did you do?” Mikey tries to keep from looking at William, to stay focused on Pete, but his gaze keeps sliding toward him, the urge to drop to his knees and crawl to the couch feels like a weight on his balls.

“I didn’t do anything. Not anything _bad_.”

“He asked if I could come out on a school night.” William’s voice is amused as he smiles, looking Mikey over from head to toe, letting his gaze linger. Mikey feels himself getting hard. “Say hello.”

A flush heats Mikey’s entire body and he bows his head. He’s embarrassed and annoyed with himself, worried that he’s upset William. He secures his hands behind his back, the fingers of one hand curled tightly around the other wrist, nails digging into the thin skin. “Hello.”

“I thought we could go have dinner.” Pete beams at Mikey. “Like a date.”

“For all three of us?”

“Well, for you guys. But with me along as chaperone. So everything stays PG-13 rated. No crawling on the floor in the restaurant or sucking people off under the table. I mean, unless I get some of that action. It’s been a long and lonely dry spell. My hand is starting to think I’m a stalker.”

William smiles and Mikey rolls his eyes. “So you’ve got this whole thing planned out, huh?”

“Yeah. Except for the dinner thing. I know we all like diner food, but I wasn’t sure that was fancy enough. So I was thinking pizza.”

“Pizza is fancier?”

“If you get deep dish.”

Mikey shakes his head. “I just got home from work and I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with you right now, Pete. I just want to take a shower and go to bed. It’s been a shitty day.”

“Come here.” 

Mikey’s gaze jerks toward William and he can’t help flushing at the darkness of William's gaze. He goes on instinct, walking over until he’s right in front of him. William takes his hand and guides him down onto the couch next to him, fitting Mikey against him, his arm draped over Mikey’s shoulders. 

Pete’s eyes go wide and Mikey thinks his grin might split his face in half. “We could order in. Pizza or Thai or diner food or Italian or sushi or...”

“You decide and order for us, Pete.” William presses a soft kiss against Mikey’s temple. “We’ll just relax for a while. Let Mikey wind down.”

“Oh,” Mikey whispers. He looks down at his hands in his lap and they’re shaking. “Th-thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll do that. From the other room. Yes.” Pete nods and gets to his feet, hurrying to the kitchen and the stack of take-out menus. He gives Mikey a thumbs up over the counter and then carries the menus into the bathroom. “Privacy is great,” he yells once he shuts the door. “That way I can order you whatever I want without you knowing.”

Mikey turns his head and presses it to William’s chest. “I don’t understand.”

William catches Mikey’s chin and lifts it. He looks at him for a long time and then smiles, which causes something hot and liquid to burn inside Mikey. “I think you do.” He kisses Mikey slowly, thoroughly, and Mikey’s not sure if he’s going to remember how to breath. “And if you don’t yet, you will.”


End file.
